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Title: The Fifteen Decisive Battles of The World From Marathon to Waterloo

Author: Sir Edward Creasy, M.A.

Release Date: May, 2003 [Etext #4061]

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Produced by John Hill

THE FIFTEEN DECISIVE BATTLES OF THE WORLD

FROM MARATHON TO WATERLOO

by Sir Edward Creasy, M.A.

(Late Chief Justice of Ceylon)
Author of 'The Rise and Progress of the English Constitution'

Dedicated to ROBERT GORDON LATHAM, M.D., F.R.S.

Late Fellow of King's College Cambridge; Fellow of the Royal
College of Physicians, London.
Member of the Ethnological Society, New York;
Late Professor of the English Language and Literature, in
University College, London.

By his Friend THE AUTHOR.

Notes:
Capital letters have been used to replace text in italics in the
printed text. Accents have been omitted.

Footnotes have been inserted into the text enclosed in square

'[]' brackets, near the point where they were indicated by a
suffix in the text.

Greek words in the text have been crudely translated into

Western European capital letters. Sincere apologies to Greek
scholars! Longer passages in Greek have been omitted and where
possible replaced with a reference to the original from which
they were taken.

PREFACE.

It is an honourable characteristic of the Spirit of this Age,

that projects of violence and warfare are regarded among
civilized states with gradually increasing aversion. The
Universal Peace Society certainly does not, and probably never
will, enrol the majority of statesmen among its members. But
even those who look upon the Appeal of Battle as occasionally
unavoidable in international controversies, concur in thinking it
a deplorable necessity, only to be resorted to when all peaceful
modes of arrangement have been vainly tried; and when the law of
self-defence justifies a State, like an individual, in using
force to protect itself from imminent and serious injury. For a
writer, therefore, of the present day to choose battles for his
favourite topic, merely because they were battles, merely because
so many myriads of troops were arrayed in them, and so many
hundreds or thousands of human beings stabbed, hewed, or shot
each other to death during them, would argue strange weakness or
depravity of mind. Yet it cannot be denied that a fearful and
wonderful interest is attached to these scenes of carnage. There
is undeniable greatness in the disciplined courage, and in the
love of honour, which make the combatants confront agony and
destruction. And the powers of the human intellect are rarely
more strongly displayed than they are in the Commander, who
regulates, arrays, and wields at his will these masses of armed
disputants; who, cool yet daring, in the midst of peril reflects
on all, and provides for all, ever ready with fresh resources and
designs, as the vicissitudes of the storm of slaughter require.
But these qualities, however high they may appear, are to be
found in the basest as well as in the noblest of mankind.
Catiline was as brave a soldier as Leonidas, and a much better
officer. Alva surpassed the Prince of Orange in the field; and
Suwarrow was the military superior of Kosciusko. To adopt the
emphatic words of Byron:--

"'Tis the Cause makes all,

Degrades or hallows courage in its fall."

There are some battles, also, which claim our attention,

independently of the moral worth of the combatants, on account of
their enduring importance, and by reason of the practical
influence on our own social and political condition, which we can
trace up to the results of those engagements. They have for us
an abiding and actual interest, both while we investigate the
chain of causes and effects, by which they have helped to make us
what we are; and also while we speculate on what we probably
should have been, if any one of those battles had come to a
different termination. Hallam has admirably expressed this in
his remarks on the victory gained by Charles Martel, between
Tours and Poictiers, over the invading Saracens.

He says of it, that "it may justly be reckoned among those few
battles of which a contrary event would have essentially varied
the drama of the world in all its subsequent scenes: with
Marathon, Arbela, the Metaurus, Chalons, and Leipsic." It was the
perusal of this note of Hallam's that first led me to the
consideration of my present subject. I certainly differ from
that great historian as to the comparative importance of some of
the battles which he thus enumerates, and also of some which he
omits. It is probable, indeed, that no two historical inquirers
would entirely agree in their lists of the Decisive Battles of
the World. Different minds will naturally vary in the
impressions which particular events make on them; and in the
degree of interest with which they watch the career, and reflect
on the importance, of different historical personages. But our
concurrence in our catalogues is of little moment, provided we
learn to look on these great historical events in the spirit
which Hallam's observations indicate. Those remarks should teach
us to watch how the interests of many states are often involved
in the collisions between a few; and how the effect of those
collisions is not limited to a single age, but may give an
impulse which will sway the fortunes of successive generations of
mankind. Most valuable also is the mental discipline which is
thus acquired, and by which we are trained not only to observe
what has been, and what is, but also to ponder on what might have
been. [See Bolingbroke, On the Study and Use of History, vol.
ii. p. 497 of his collected works.]

We thus learn not to judge of the wisdom of measures too

exclusively by the results. We learn to apply the juster
standard of seeing what the circumstances and the probabilities
were that surrounded a statesman or a general at the time when he
decided on his plan: we value him not by his fortune, but by his
PROAIRESIZ, to adopt the expressive Greek word, for which our
language gives no equivalent.

The reasons why each of the following Fifteen Battles has been
selected will, I trust, appear when it is described. But it may
be well to premise a few remarks on the negative tests which have
led me to reject others, which at first sight may appear equal in
magnitude and importance to the chosen Fifteen.

I need hardly remark that it is not the number of killed and

wounded in a battle that determines its general historical
importance. It is not because only a few hundreds fell in the
battle by which Joan of Arc captured the Tourelles and raised the
siege of Orleans, that the effect of that crisis is to be judged:
nor would a full belief in the largest number which Eastern
historians state to have been slaughtered in any of the numerous
conflicts between Asiatic rulers, make me regard the engagement
in which they fell as one of paramount importance to mankind.
But, besides battles of this kind, there are many of great
consequence, and attended with circumstances which powerfully
excite our feelings, and rivet our attention, and yet which
appear to me of mere secondary rank, inasmuch as either their
effects were limited in area, or they themselves merely confirmed
some great tendency or bias which an earlier battle had
originated. For example, the encounters between the Greeks and
Persians, which followed Marathon, seem to me not to have been
phenomena of primary impulse. Greek superiority had been already
asserted, Asiatic ambition had already been checked, before
Salamis and Platea confirmed the superiority of European free
states over Oriental despotism. So, AEgos-Potamos, which finally
crushed the maritime power of Athens, seems to me inferior in
interest to the defeat before Syracuse, where Athens received her
first fatal check, and after which she only struggled to retard
her downfall. I think similarly of Zama with respect to
Carthage, as compared with the Metaurus: and, on the same
principle, the subsequent great battles of the Revolutionary war
appear to me inferior in their importance to Valmy, which first
determined the military character and career of the French
Revolution.

I am aware that a little activity of imagination, and a slight

exercise of metaphysical ingenuity, may amuse us, by showing how
the chain of circumstances is so linked together, that the
smallest skirmish, or the slightest occurrence of any kind, that
ever occurred, may be said to have been essential, in its actual
termination, to the whole order of subsequent events. But when I
speak of Causes and Effects, I speak of the obvious and important
agency of one fact upon another, and not of remote and fancifully
infinitesimal influences. I am aware that, on the other hand,
the reproach of Fatalism is justly incurred by those, who, like
the writers of a certain school in a neighbouring country,
recognise in history nothing more than a series of necessary
phenomena, which follow inevitably one upon the other. But when,
in this work, I speak of probabilities, I speak of human
probabilities only. When I speak of Cause and Effect, I speak of
those general laws only, by which we perceive the sequence of
human affairs to be usually regulated; and in which we recognise
emphatically the wisdom and power of the Supreme Lawgiver, the
design of The Designer.

MITRE COURT CHAMBERS, TEMPLE,

June 26, 1851.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

THE BATTLE OF MARATHON

Explanatory Remarks on some of the circumstances of the Battle of
Marathon.

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Marathon, B.C. 490, and

the Defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse, B.C. 413.

CHAPTER II.

DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS AT SYRACUSE, B.C. 413.

Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse

and the Battle of Arbela.

CHAPTER III.

THE BATTLE OF ARBELA, B.C. 331.

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Arbela and the Battle of

the Metaurus.

CHAPTER IV.

THE BATTLE OF THE METAURUS, B.C. 207.

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of the Metaurus, B.C. 207,

and Arminius's Victory over the Roman Legions under Varus. A.D. 9.

CHAPTER V.

VICTORY OF ARMINIUS OVER THE ROMAN LEGIONS UNDER VARUS, A.D. 9.

Arminius.
Synopsis of Events between Arminius's Victory over Varus and the
Battle of Chalons.

CHAPTER VI.

THE BATTLE OF CHALONS, A.D. 451.

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Chalons, A.D. 451, and

the Battle of Tours, 732.

CHAPTER VII.

THE BATTLE OF TOURS, A.D. 732.

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Tours, A.D. 732 and the
Battle of Hastings, 1066.

CHAPTER VIII.
THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS, A.D. 1066.

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Hastings, A.D. 1066, and

Joan of Arc's Victory at Orleans, 1429.

CHAPTER IX.

JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY OVER THE ENGLISH AT ORLEANS, A.D. 1429.

Synopsis of Events between Joan of Arc's Victory at Orleans,

A.D. 1429, and the Defeat of the Spanish Armada, 1588.

CHAPTER X.

THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA, A.D. 1588.

Synopsis of events between the Defeat of the Spanish Armada

A.D. 1588, and the Battle of Blenheim, 1704.

CHAPTER XI.

THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM, A.D. 1704.

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Blenheim, 1704, and the

Battle of Pultowa, 1709.

CHAPTER XII.

THE BATTLE OF PULTOWA, A.D. 1709.

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Pultowa, 1709, and the

Defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga, 1777.

CHAPTER XIII.

VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS OVER BURGOYNE AT SARATOGA, A.D. 1777.

Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga, 1777,

and the Battle of Valmy, 1792.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE BATTLE OF VALMY.

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Valmy, 1792, and the Battle
of Waterloo, 1815.

CHAPTER XV.

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO, 1815.

*

THE FIFTEEN DECISIVE BATTLES OF THE WORLD.

CHAPTER I.

THE BATTLE OF MARATHON.

"Quibus actus uterque

Europae atque Asiae fatis concurrerit orbis."

Two thousand three hundred and forty years ago, a council of

Athenian officers was summoned on the slope of one of the
mountains that look over the plain of Marathon, on the eastern
coast of Attica. The immediate subject of their meeting was to
consider whether they should give battle to an enemy that lay
encamped on the shore beneath them; but on the result of their
deliberations depended not merely the fate of two armies, but the
whole future progress of human civilization.

There were eleven members of that council of war. Ten were the
generals, who were then annually elected at Athens, one for each
of the local tribes into which the Athenians were divided. Each
general led the men of his own tribe, and each was invested with
equal military authority. One also of the Archons was associated
with them in the joint command of the collective force. This
magistrate was termed the Polemarch or War-Ruler: he had the
privilege of leading the right wing of the army in battle, and of
taking part in all councils of war. A noble Athenian, named
Callimachus, was the War-Ruler of this year; and as such, stood
listening to the earnest discussion of the ten generals. They
had, indeed, deep matter for anxiety, though little aware how
momentous to mankind were the votes they were about to give, or
how the generations to come would read with interest that record
of their debate. They saw before them the invading forces of a
mighty empire, which had in the last fifty years shattered and
enslaved nearly all the kingdoms and principalities of the then
known world. They knew that all the resources of their own
country were comprised in the little army entrusted to their
guidance. They saw before them a chosen host of the Great King
sent to wreak his special wrath on that country, and on the other
insolent little Greek community, which had dared to aid his
rebels and burn the capital of one of his provinces. That
victorious host had already fulfilled half its mission of
vengeance. Eretria, the confederate of Athens in the bold march
against Sardis nine years before, had fallen in the last few
days; and the Athenian generals could discern from the heights
the island of AEgilia, in which the Persians had deposited their
Eretrian prisoners, whom they had reserved to be led away
captives into Upper Asia, there to hear their doom from the lips
of King Darius himself. Moreover, the men of Athens knew that in
the camp before them was their own banished tyrant, Hippias, who
was seeking to be reinstated by foreign scimitars in despotic
sway over any remnant of his countrymen that might survive the
sack of their town, and might be left behind as too worthless for
leading away into Median bondage.

The numerical disparity between the force which the Athenian

commanders had under them, and that which they were called on to
encounter, was fearfully apparent to some of the council. The
historians who wrote nearest to the time of the battle do not
pretend to give any detailed statements of the numbers engaged,
but there are sufficient data for our making a general estimate.
Every free Greek was trained to military duty: and, from the
incessant border wars between the different states, few Greeks
reached the age of manhood without having seen some service. But
the muster-roll of free Athenian citizens of an age fit for
military duty never exceeded thirty thousand, and at this epoch
probably did not amount to two-thirds of that number. Moreover,
the poorer portion of these were unprovided with the equipments,
and untrained to the operations of the regular infantry. Some
detachments of the best armed troops would be required to
garrison the city itself, and man the various fortified posts in
the territory; so that it is impossible to reckon the fully
equipped force that marched from Athens to Marathon, when the
news of the Persian landing arrived, at higher than ten thousand
men. [The historians who lived long after the time of the
battle, such as Justin, Plutarch and others, give ten thousand as
the number of the Athenian army. Not much reliance could be
placed on their authority, if unsupported by other evidence; but
a calculation made from the number of the Athenian free
population remarkably confirms it. For the data of this, see
Boeck's "Public Economy of Athens," vol. i. p. 45. Some METOIKOI
probably served as Hoplites at Marathon, but the number of
resident aliens at Athens cannot have been large at this period.]

With one exception, the other Greeks held back from aiding them.
Sparta had promised assistance; but the Persians had landed on
the sixth day of the moon, and a religious scruple delayed the
march of Spartan troops till the moon should have reached its
full. From one quarter only, and that a most unexpected one, did
Athens receive aid at the moment of her great peril.

For some years before this time, the little state of Plataea in
Boeotia, being hard pressed by her powerful neighbour, Thebes,
had asked the protection of Athens, and had owed to an Athenian
army the rescue of her independence. Now when it was noised over
Greece that the Mede had come from the uttermost parts of the
earth to destroy Athens, the brave Plataeans, unsolicited,
marched with their whole force to assist in the defence, and to
share the fortunes of their benefactors. The general levy of the
Plataeans only amounted to a thousand men: and this little
column, marching from their city along the southern ridge of
Mount Cithaeron, and thence across the Attic territory, joined
the Athenian forces above Marathon almost immediately before the
battle. The reinforcement was numerically small; but the gallant
spirit of the men who composed it must have made it of tenfold
value to the Athenians: and its presence must have gone far to
dispel the cheerless feeling of being deserted and friendless,
which the delay of the Spartan succours was calculated to create
among the Athenian ranks.

This generous daring of their weak but true-hearted ally was

never forgotten at Athens. The Plataeans were made the fellow-
countrymen of the Athenians, except the right of exercising
certain political functions; and from that time forth in the
solemn sacrifices at Athens, the public prayers were offered up
for a joint blessing from Heaven upon the Athenians, and the
Plataeans also. [Mr. Grote observes (vol. iv. p. 484), that
"this volunteer march of the whole Plataean force to Marathon is
one of the most affecting incidents of all Grecian history." In
truth, the whole career of Plataea, and the friendship, strong
even unto death, between her and Athens, form one of the most
affecting episodes in the history of antiquity. In the
Peloponnesian War the Plataeans again were true to the Athenians
against all risks and all calculation of self-interest; and the
destruction of Plataea was the consequence. There are few nobler
passages in the classics than the speech in which the Plataean
prisoners of war, after the memorable siege of their city,
justify before their Spartan executioners their loyal adherence
to Athens. (See Thucydides, lib. iii. secs. 53-60.)]

After the junction of the column from Plataea, the Athenians

commanders must have had under them about eleven thousand fully-
armed and disciplined infantry, and probably a larger number of
irregular light-armed troops; as, besides the poorer citizens who
went to the field armed with javelins, cutlasses, and targets,
each regular heavy-armed soldier was attended in the camp by one
or more slaves, who were armed like the inferior freemen. [At
the battle of Plataea, eleven years after Marathon, each of the
eight thousand Athenian regular infantry who served there, was
attended by a light-armed slave. (Herod. lib. viii. c. 28,29.)]
Cavalry or archers the Athenians (on this occasion) had none:
and the use in the field of military engines was not at that
period introduced into ancient warfare.

Contrasted with their own scanty forces, the Greek commanders saw
stretched before them, along the shores of the winding bay, the
tents and shipping of the varied nations that marched to do the
bidding of the King of the Eastern world. The difficulty of
finding transports and of securing provisions would form the only
limit to the numbers of a Persian army. Nor is there any reason
to suppose the estimate of Justin exaggerated, who rates at a
hundred thousand the force which on this occasion had sailed,
under the satraps Datis and Artaphernes, from the Cilician
shores, against the devoted coasts of Euboea and Attica. And
after largely deducting from this total, so as to allow for mere
mariners and camp followers, there must still have remained
fearful odds against the national levies of the Athenians. Nor
could Greek generals then feel that confidence in the superior
quality of their troops which ever since the battle of Marathon
has animated Europeans in conflicts with Asiatics; as, for
instance, in the after struggles between Greece and Persia, or
when the Roman legions encountered the myriads of Mithridates and
Tigranes, or as is the case in the Indian campaigns of our own
regiments. On the contrary, up to the day of Marathon the Medes
and Persians were reputed invincible. They had more than once
met Greek troops in Asia Minor, in Cyprus, in Egypt, and had
invariably beaten them. Nothing can be stronger than the
expressions used by the early Creek writers respecting the terror
which the name of the Medes inspired, and the prostration of
men's spirits before the apparently resistless career of the
Persian arms. It is therefore, little to be wondered at, that
five of the ten Athenian generals shrank from the prospect of
fighting a pitched battle against an enemy so superior in
numbers, and so formidable in military renown. Their own
position on the heights was strong, and offered great advantages
to a small defending force against assailing masses. They deemed
it mere foolhardiness to descend into the plain to be trampled
down by the Asiatic horse, overwhelmed with the archery, or cut
to pieces by the invincible veterans of Cambyses and Cyrus.
Moreover, Sparta, the great war-state of Greece, had been applied
to, and had promised succour to Athens, though the religious
observance which the Dorians paid to certain times and seasons
had for the present delayed their march. Was it not wise, at any
rate, to wait till the Spartans came up, and to have the help of
the best troops in Greece, before they exposed themselves to the
shock of the dreaded Medes?

Specious as these reasons might appear, the other five generals

were for speedier and bolder operations. And, fortunately for
Athens and for the world, one of them was a man, not only of the
highest military genius, but also of that energetic character
which impresses its own type and ideas upon spirits feebler in
conception.

Miltiades was the head of one of the noblest houses at Athens:

he ranked the AEacidae among his ancestry, and the blood of
Achilles flowed in the veins of the hero of Marathon. One of his
immediate ancestors had acquired the dominion of the Thracian
Chersonese, and thus the family became at the same time Athenian
citizens and Thracian princes. This occurred at the time when
Pisistratus was tyrant of Athens. Two of the relatives of
Miltiades--an uncle of the same name, and a brother named
Stesagoras--had ruled the Chersonese before Miltiades became its
prince. He had been brought up at Athens in the house of his
father Cimon, [Herodotus, lib. vi. c. 102] who was renowned
throughout Greece for his victories in the Olympic chariot-races,
and who must have been possessed of great wealth. The sons of
Pisistratus, who succeeded their father in the tyranny at Athens,
caused Cimon to be assassinated, but they treated the young
Miltiades with favour and kindness; and when his brother
Stesagoras died in the Chersonese, they sent him out there as
lord of the principality. This was about twenty-eight years
before the battle of Marathon, and it is with his arrival in the
Chersonese that our first knowledge of the career and character
of Miltiades commences. We find, in the first act recorded of
him, proof of the same resolute and unscrupulous spirit that
marked his mature age. His brother's authority in the
principality had been shaken by war and revolt: Miltiades
determined to rule more securely. On his arrival he kept close
within his house, as if he was mourning for his brother. The
principal men of the Chersonese, hearing of this, assembled from
all the towns and districts, and went together to the house of
Miltiades on a visit of condolence. As soon as he had thus got
them in his power, he made them all prisoners. He then asserted
and maintained his own absolute authority in the peninsula,
taking into his pay a body of five hundred regular troops, and
strengthening his interest by marrying the daughter of the king
of the neighbouring Thracians.

When the Persian power was extended to the Hellespont and its
neighbourhood, Miltiades, as prince of the Chersonese, submitted
to King Darius; and he was one of the numerous tributary rulers
who led their contingents of men to serve in the Persian army in
the expedition against Scythia. Miltiades and the vassal Greeks
of Asia Minor were left by the Persian king in charge of the
bridge across the Danube, when the invading army crossed that
river, and plunged into the wilds of the country that now is
Russia, in vain pursuit of the ancestors of the modern Cossacks.
On learning the reverses that Darius met with in the Scythian
wilderness, Miltiades proposed to his companions that they should
break the bridge down, and leave the Persian king and his army to
perish by famine and the Scythian arrows. The rulers of the
Asiatic Greek cities whom Miltiades addressed, shrank from this
bold and ruthless stroke against the Persian power, and Darius
returned in safety. But it was known what advice Miltiades had
given; and the vengeance of Darius was thenceforth specially
directed against the man who had counselled such a deadly blow
against his empire and his person. The occupation of the Persian
arms in other quarters left Miltiades for some years after this
in possession of the Chersonese; but it was precarious and
interrupted. He, however, availed himself of the opportunity
which his position gave him of conciliating the goodwill of his
fellow-countrymen at Athens, by conquering and placing under
Athenian authority the islands of Lemnos and Imbros, to which
Athens had ancient claims, but which she had never previously
been able to bring into complete subjection. At length, in 494
B.C., the complete suppression of the Ionian revolt by the
Persians left their armies and fleets at liberty to act against
the enemies of the Great King to the west of the Hellespont. A
strong squadron of Phoenician galleys was sent against the
Chersonese. Miltiades knew that resistance was hopeless; and
while the Phoenicians were at Tenedos, he loaded five galleys
with all the treasure that he could collect, and sailed away for
Athens. The Phoenicians fell in with him, and chased him hard
along the north of the AEgean. One of his galleys, on board of
which was his eldest son, Metiochus, was actually captured; but
Miltiades, with the other four, succeeded in reaching the
friendly coast of Imbros in safety. Thence he afterwards
proceeded to Athens, and resumed his station as a free citizen of
the Athenian commonwealth.

The Athenians at this time had recently expelled Hippias, the son
of Pisistratus, the last of their tyrants. They were in the full
glow of their newly-recovered liberty and equality; and the
constitutional changes of Cleisthenes had inflamed their
republican zeal to the utmost. Miltiades had enemies at Athens;
and these, availing themselves of the state of popular feeling,
brought him to trial for his life for having been tyrant of the
Chersonese. The charge did not necessarily import any acts of
cruelty or wrong to individuals: it was founded on so specific
law; but it was based on the horror with which the Greeks of that
age regarded every man who made himself compulsory master of his
fellow-men, and exercised irresponsible dominion over them. The
fact of Miltiades having so ruled in the Chersonese was
undeniable; but the question which the Athenians, assembled in
judgment, must have tried, was, whether Miltiades, by becoming
tyrant of the Chersonese, deserved punishment as an Athenian
citizen. The eminent service that he had done the state in
conquering Lemnos and Imbros for it, pleaded strongly in his
favour. The people refused to convict him. He stood high in
public opinion; and when the coming invasion of the Persians was
known, the people wisely elected him one of their generals for
the year.

Two other men of signal eminence in history, though their renown

was achieved at a later period than that of Miltiades, were also
among the ten Athenian generals at Marathon. One was
Themistocles, the future founder of the Athenian navy and the
destined victor of Salamis: the other was Aristides, who
afterwards led the Athenian troops at Plataea, and whose
integrity and just popularity acquired for his country, when the
Persians had finally been repulsed, the advantageous pre-eminence
of being acknowledged by half of the Greeks as their impartial
leader and protector. It is not recorded what part either
Themistocles or Aristides took in the debate of the council of
war at Marathon. But from the character of Themistocles, his
boldness, and his intuitive genius for extemporizing the best
measures in every emergency (a quality which the greatest of
historians ascribes to him beyond all his contemporaries), we may
well believe that the vote of Themistocles was for prompt and
decisive action. [See the character of Themistocles in the 138th
section of the first book of Thucydides, especially the last
sentence.] On the vote of Aristides it may be more difficult to
speculate. His predilection for the Spartans may have made him
wish to wait till they came up; but, though circumspect, he was
neither timid as a soldier nor as a politician; and the bold
advice of Miltiades may probably have found in Aristides a
willing, most assuredly it found in him a candid, hearer.

Miltiades felt no hesitation as to the course which the Athenian

army ought to pursue: and earnestly did he press his opinion on
his brother-generals. Practically acquainted with the
organization of the Persian armies, Miltiades was convinced of
the superiority of the Greek troops, if properly handled: he saw
with the military eye of a great general the advantage which the
position of the forces gave him for a sudden attack, and as a
profound politician he felt the perils of remaining inactive, and
of giving treachery time to ruin the Athenian cause.

One officer in the council of war had not yet voted. This was
Callimachus, the War-Ruler. The votes of the generals were five
and five, so that the voice of Callimachus would be decisive.

On that vote, in all human probability, the destiny of all the

nations of the world depended. Miltiades turned to him, and in
simple soldierly eloquence, the substance of which we may read
faithfully reported in Herodotus, who had conversed with the
veterans of Marathon, the great Athenian thus adjured his
countryman to vote for giving battle:--
"It now rests with you, Callimachus, either to enslave Athens,
or, by assuring her freedom, to win yourself an immortality of
fame, such as not even Harmodius and Aristogeiton have acquired.
For never, since the Athenians were a people, were they in such
danger as they are in at this moment. If they bow the knee to
these Medes, they are to be given up to Hippias, and you know
what they then will have to suffer. But if Athens comes
victorious out of this contest, she has it in her to become the
first city of Greece. Your vote is to decide whether we are to
join battle or not. If we do not bring on a battle presently,
some factious intrigue will disunite the Athenians, and the city
will be betrayed to the Medes. But if we fight, before there is
anything rotten in the state of Athens, I believe that, provided
the Gods will give fair play and no favour, we are able to get
the best of it in the engagement." [Herodotus, lib. vi. sec.
209. The 116th section is to my mind clear proof that Herodotus
had personally conversed with Epizelus, one of the veterans of
Marathon. The substance of the speech of Miltiades would
naturally become known by the report of some of his colleagues.]

The vote of the brave War-Ruler was gained; the council

determined to give battle; and such was the ascendancy and
military eminence of Miltiades, that his brother-generals, one
and all, gave up their days of command to him, and cheerfully
acted under his orders. Fearful, however, of creating any
jealousy, and of so failing to obtain the co-operation of all
parts of his small army, Miltiades waited till the day when the
chief command would have come round to him in regular rotation,
before he led the troops against the enemy.

The inaction of the Asiatic commanders, during this interval,

appears strange at first sight; but Hippias was with them, and
they and he were aware of their chance of a bloodless conquest
through the machinations of his partisans among the Athenians.
The nature of the ground also explains, in many points, the
tactics of the opposite generals before the battle, as well as
the operations of the troops during the engagement.

The plain of Marathon, which is about twenty-two miles distant

from Athens, lies along the bay of the same name on the north-
eastern coast of Attica. The plain is nearly in the form of a
crescent, and about six miles in length. It is about two miles
broad in the centre, where the space between the mountains and
the sea is greatest, but it narrows towards either extremity, the
mountains coming close down to the water at the horns of the bay.
There is a valley trending inwards from the middle of the plain,
and a ravine comes down to it to the southward. Elsewhere it, is
closely girt round on the land side by rugged limestone
mountains, which are thickly studded with pines, olive-trees, and
cedars, and overgrown with the myrtle, arbutus, and the other low
odoriferous shrubs that everywhere perfume the Attic air. The
level of the ground is now varied by the mound raised over those
who fell in the battle, but it was an unbroken plain when the
Persians encamped on it. There are marshes at each end, which
are dry in spring and summer, and then offer no obstruction to
the horseman, but are commonly flooded with rain, and so rendered
impracticable for cavalry, in the autumn, the time of year at
which the action took place.
The Greeks, lying encamped on the mountains, could watch every
movement of the Persians on the plain below, while they were
enabled completely to mask their own. Miltiades also had, from
his position, the power of giving battle whenever he pleased, or
of delaying it at his discretion, unless Datis were to attempt
the perilous operation of storming the heights.

If we turn to the map of the old world, to test the comparative

territorial resources of the two states whose armies were now
about to come into conflict, the immense preponderance of the
material power of the Persian king over that of the Athenian
republic is more striking than any similar contrast which history
can supply. It has been truly remarked, that, in estimating mere
areas, Attica, containing on its whole surface only seven hundred
square miles, shrinks into insignificance if compared with many a
baronial fief of the Middle Ages, or many a colonial allotment of
modern times. Its antagonist, the Persian empire, comprised the
whole of modern Asiatic and much of modern European Turkey, the
modern kingdom of Persia, and the countries of modern Georgia,
Armenia, Balkh, the Punjaub, Affghanistan, Beloochistan, Egypt,
and Tripoli.

Nor could a European, in the beginning of the fifth century

before our era, look upon this huge accumulation of power beneath
the sceptre of a single Asiatic ruler, with the indifference with
which we now observe on the map the extensive dominions of modern
Oriental sovereigns. For, as has been already remarked, before
Marathon was fought, the prestige of success and of supposed
superiority of race was on the side of the Asiatic against the
European. Asia was the original seat of human societies and long
before any trace can be found of the inhabitants of the rest of
the world having emerged from the rudest barbarism, we can
perceive that mighty and brilliant empires flourished in the
Asiatic continent. They appear before us through the twilight of
primeval history, dim and indistinct, but massive and majestic,
like mountains in the early dawn.

Instead, however, of the infinite variety and restless change

which have characterised the institutions and fortunes of
European states ever since the commencement of the civilization
of our continent, a monotonous uniformity pervades the histories
of nearly all Oriental empires, from the most ancient down to the
most recent times. They are characterised by the rapidity of
their early conquests; by the immense extent of the dominions
comprised in them; by the establishment of a satrap or pacha
system of governing the provinces; by an invariable and speedy
degeneracy in the princes of the royal house, the effeminate
nurslings of the seraglio succeeding to the warrior-sovereigns
reared in the camp; and by the internal anarchy and
insurrections, which indicate and accelerate the decline and fall
of those unwieldy and ill-organized fabrics of power. It is also
a striking fact that the governments of all the great Asiatic
empires have in all ages been absolute despotisms. And Heeren is
right in connecting this with another great fact, which is
important from its influence both on the political and the social
life of Asiatics. "Among all the considerable nations of Inner
Asia, the paternal government of every household was corrupted by
polygamy; where that custom exists, a good political constitution
is impossible. Fathers being converted into domestic despots,
are ready to pay the same abject obedience to their sovereign
which they exact from their family and dependants in their
domestic economy." We should bear in mind also the inseparable
connexion between the state religion and all legislation, which
has always prevailed in the East, and the constant existence of a
powerful sacerdotal body, exercising some check, though
precarious and irregular, over the throne itself, grasping at all
civil administration, claiming the supreme control of education,
stereotyping the lines in which literature and science must move,
and limiting the extent to which it shall be lawful for the human
mind to prosecute its inquiries.

With these general characteristics rightly felt and understood.

it becomes a comparatively easy task to investigate and
appreciate the origin, progress, and principles of Oriental
empires in general, as well as of the Persian monarchy in
particular. And we are thus better enabled to appreciate the
repulse which Greece gave to the arms of the East, and to judge
of the probable consequences to human civilization, if the
Persians had succeeded in bringing Europe under their yoke, as
they had already subjugated the fairest portions of the rest of
the then known world.

The Greeks, from their geographical position, formed the natural

vanguard of European liberty against Persian ambition; and they
pre-eminently displayed the salient points of distinctive
national character, which have rendered European civilization so
far superior to Asiatic. The nations that dwelt in ancient times
around and near the northern shores of the Mediterranean Sea,
were the first in our continent to receive from the East the
rudiments of art and literature, and the germs of social and
political organization. Of these nations, the Greeks, through
their vicinity to Asia Minor, Phoenicia, and Egypt, were among
the very foremost in acquiring the principles and habits of
civilized life; and they also at once imparted a new and wholly
original stamp on all which they received. Thus, in their
religion they received from foreign settlers the names of all
their deities and many of their rites, but they discarded the
loathsome monstrosities of the Nile, the Orontes, and the
Ganges;--they nationalized their creed; and their own poets
created their beautiful mythology. No sacerdotal caste ever
existed in Greece. So, in their governments they lived long
under hereditary kings, but never endured the permanent
establishment of absolute monarchy. Their early kings were
constitutional rulers, governing with defined prerogatives. And
long before the Persian invasion the kingly form of government
had given way in almost all the Greek states to republican
institutions, presenting infinite varieties of the balancing or
the alternate predominance of the oligarchical and democratical
principles. In literature and science the Greek intellect
followed no beaten track, and acknowledged no limitary rules.
The Greeks thought their subjects boldly out; and the novelty of
a speculation invested it in their minds with interest, and not
with criminality. Versatile, restless, enterprising and self-
confident, the Greeks presented the most striking contrast to the
habitual quietude and submissiveness of the Orientals. And, of
all the Greeks, the Athenians exhibited these national
characteristics in the strongest degree. This spirit of activity
and daring, joined to a generous sympathy for the fate of their
fellow-Greeks in Asia, had led them to join in the last Ionian
war; and now, mingling with their abhorrence of the usurping
family of their own citizens, which for a period had forcibly
seized on and exercised despotic power at Athens, it nerved them
to defy the wrath of King Darius, and to refuse to receive back
at his bidding the tyrant whom they had some years before driven
from their land.

The enterprise and genius of an Englishman have lately confirmed

by fresh evidence, and invested with fresh interest, the might of
the Persian monarch, who sent his troops to combat at Marathon.
Inscriptions in a character termed the Arrow-headed, or
Cuneiform, had long been known to exist on the marble monuments
at Persepolis, near the site of the ancient Susa, and on the
faces of rocks in other places formerly ruled over by the early
Persian kings. But for thousands of years they had been mere
unintelligible enigmas to the curious but baffled beholder: and
they were often referred to as instances of the folly of human
pride, which could indeed write its own praises in the solid
rock, but only for the rock to outlive the language as well as
the memory of the vain-glorious inscribers. The elder Niebuhr,
Grotefend, and Lassen had made some guesses at the meaning of the
Cuneiform letters; but Major Rawlinson, of the East India
Company's service, after years of labour, has at last
accomplished the glorious achievement of fully revealing the
alphabet and the grammar of this long unknown tongue. He has, in
particular, fully deciphered and expounded the inscriptions on
the sacred rock of Behistun, on the western frontiers of Media.
These records of the Achaemenidae have at length found their
interpreter; and Darius himself speaks to us from the consecrated
mountain, and tells us the names of the nations that obeyed him,
the revolts that he suppressed, his victories, his piety, and his
glory. [See the tenth volume of the "Journal of the Royal
Asiatic Society."]

Kings who thus seek the admiration of posterity are little likely
to dim the record of their successes by the mention of their
occasional defeats; and it throws no suspicion on the narrative
of the Greek historians, that we find these inscriptions silent
respecting the overthrow of Datis and Artaphernes, as well as
respecting the reverses which Darius sustained in person during
his Scythian campaigns. But these indisputable monuments of
Persian fame confirm, and even increase, the opinion with which
Herodotus inspires us, of the vast power which Cyrus founded and
Cambyses increased; which Darius augmented by Indian and Arabian
conquests, and seemed likely, when he directed his arms against
Europe, to make the predominant monarchy of the world.

With the exception of the Chinese empire, in which, throughout

all ages down to the last few years, one-third of the human race
has dwelt almost unconnected with the other portions, all the
great kingdoms which we know to have existed in Ancient Asia,
were, in Darius's time, blended with the Persian. The northern
Indians, the Assyrians, the Syrians, the Babylonians, the
Chaldees, the Phoenicians, the nations of Palestine, the
Armenians, the Bactrians, the Lydians, the Phrygians, the
Parthians, and the Medes,--all obeyed the sceptre of the Great
King: the Medes standing next to the native Persians in honour,
and the empire being frequently spoken of as that of the Medes,
or as that of the Medes and Persians. Egypt and Cyrene were
Persian provinces; the Greek colonists in Asia Minor and the
islands of the AEgean were Darius's subjects; and their gallant
but unsuccessful attempts to throw off the Persian yoke had only
served to rivet it more strongly, and to increase the general
belief: that the Greeks could not stand before the Persians in a
field of battle. Darius's Scythian war, though unsuccessful in
its immediate object, had brought about the subjugation of Thrace
and the submission of Macedonia. From the Indus to the Peneus,
all was his.

We may imagine the wrath with which the lord of so many nations
must have heard, nine years before the battle of Marathon, that a
strange nation towards the setting sun, called the Athenians, had
dared to help his rebels in Ionia against him, and that they had
plundered and burnt the capital of one of his provinces. Before
the burning of Sardis, Darius seems never to have heard of the
existence of Athens; but his satraps in Asia Minor had for some
time seen Athenian refugees at their provincial courts imploring
assistance against their fellow-countrymen. When Hippias was
driven away from Athens, and the tyrannic dynasty of the
Pisistratidae finally overthrown in 510 B.C., the banished tyrant
and his adherents, after vainly seeking to be restored by Spartan
intervention, had betaken themselves to Sardis, the capital city
of the satrapy of Artaphernes. There Hippias (in the expressive
words of Herodotus) [Herod. lib. v. c. 96.] began every kind of
agitation, slandering the Athenians before Artaphernes, and doing
all he could to induce the satrap to place Athens in subjection
to him, as the tributary vassal of King Darius. When the
Athenians heard of his practices, they sent envoys to Sardis to
remonstrate with the Persians against taking up the quarrel of
the Athenian refugees. But Artaphernes gave them in reply a
menacing command to receive Hippias back again if they looked for
safety. The Athenians were resolved not to purchase safety at
such a price; and after rejecting the satrap's terms, they
considered that they and the Persians were declared enemies. At
this very crisis the Ionian Greeks implored the assistance of
their European brethren, to enable them to recover their
independence from Persia. Athens, and the city of Eretria in
Euboea, alone consented. Twenty Athenian galleys, and five
Eretrian, crossed the AEgean Sea; and by a bold and sudden march
upon Sardis the Athenians and their allies succeeded in capturing
the capital city of the haughty satrap, who had recently menaced
them with servitude or destruction. The Persian forces were soon
rallied, and the Greeks were compelled to retire. They were
pursued, and defeated on their return to the coast, and Athens
took no further part in the Ionian war. But the insult that she
had put upon the Persian power was speedily made known throughout
that empire, and was never to be forgiven or forgotten. In the
emphatic simplicity of the narrative of Herodotus, the wrath of
the Great King is thus described:--"Now when it was told to King
Darius that Sardis had been taken and burnt by the Athenians and
Ionians, he took small heed of the Ionians, well knowing who they
were, and that their revolt would soon be put down: but he asked
who, and what manner of men, the Athenians were. And when he had
been told, he called for his bow; and, having taken it, and
placed an arrow on the string, he let the arrow fly towards
heaven; and as he shot it into the air, he said, 'O Supreme God!
grant me that I may avenge myself on the Athenians.' And when he
had said this, he appointed one of his servants to say to him
every day as he sat at meat, 'Sire, remember the Athenians.'"

Some years were occupied in the complete reduction of Ionia. But

when this was effected, Darius ordered his victorious forces to
proceed to punish Athens and Eretria, and to conquer European
Greece. The first armament sent for this purpose was shattered
by shipwreck, and nearly destroyed off Mount Athos, But the
purpose of King Darius was not easily shaken. A larger army was
ordered to be collected in Cilicia; and requisitions were sent to
all the maritime cities of the Persian empire for ships of war,
and for transports of sufficient size for carrying cavalry as
well as infantry across the AEgean. While these preparations
were being made, Darius sent heralds round to the Grecian cities
demanding their submission to Persia. It was proclaimed in the
market-place of each little Hellenic state (some with territories
not larger than the Isle of Wight), that King Darius, the lord of
all men, from the rising to the setting sun, required earth and
water to be delivered to his heralds, as a symbolical
acknowledgment that he was head and master of the country.
[Aeschines in Ctes. p. 622, ed. Reiske. Mitford, vol. i. p. 485.
AEschines is speaking of Xerxes, but Mitford is probably right in
considering it as the style of the Persian kings in their
proclamations. In one of the inscriptions at Persepolis, Darius
terms himself "Darius the great king, king of kings, the king of
the many peopled countries, the supporter also of this great
world." In another, he styles himself "the king of all inhabited
countries." (See "Asiatic Journal vol. X pp. 287 and 292, and
Major Rawlinson's Comments.)] Terror-stricken at the power of
Persia and at the severe punishment that had recently been
inflicted on the refractory Ionians, many of the continental
Greeks and nearly all the islanders submitted, and gave the
required tokens of vassalage. At Sparta and Athens an indignant
refusal was returned: a refusal which was disgraced by outrage
and violence against the persons of the Asiatic heralds.

Fresh fuel was thus added to the anger of Darius against Athens,
and the Persian preparations went on with renewed vigour. In the
summer of 490 B.C., the army destined for the invasion was
assembled in the Aleian plain of Cilicia, near the sea. A fleet
of six hundred galleys and numerous transports was collected on
the coast for the embarkation of troops, horse as well as foot.
A Median general named Datis, and Artaphernes, the son of the
satrap of Sardis, and who was also nephew of Darius, were placed
in titular joint command of the expedition. That the real
supreme authority was given to Datis alone is probable, from the
way in which the Greek writers speak of him. We know no details
of the previous career of this officer; but there is every reason
to believe that his abilities and bravery had been proved by
experience, or his Median birth would have prevented his being
placed in high command by Darius. He appears to have been the
first Mede who was thus trusted by the Persian kings after the
overthrow of the conspiracy of the Median Magi against the
Persians immediately before Darius obtained the throne. Datis
received instructions to complete the subjugation of Greece, and
especial orders were given him with regard to Eretria and Athens.
He was to take these two cities; and he was to lead the
inhabitants away captive, and bring them as slaves into the
presence of the Great King.

Datis embarked his forces in the fleet that awaited them; and
coasting along the shores of Asia Minor till he was off Samos, he
thence sailed due westward through the AEgean Sea for Greece,
taking the islands in his way. The Naxians had, ten years
before, successfully stood a siege against a Persian armament,
but they now were too terrified to offer any resistance, and fled
to the mountain-tops, while the enemy burnt their town and laid
waste their lands. Thence Datis, compelling the Greek islanders
to join him with their ships and men, sailed onward to the coast
of Euboea. The little town of Carystus essayed resistance, but
was quickly overpowered. He next attacked Eretria. The
Athenians sent four thousand men to its aid. But treachery was
at work among the Eretrians; and the Athenian force received
timely warning from one of the leading men of the city to retire
to aid in saving their own country, instead of remaining to share
in the inevitable destruction of Eretria. Left to themselves,
the Eretrians repulsed the assaults of the Persians against their
walls for six days; on the seventh day they were betrayed by two
of their chiefs and the Persians occupied the city. The temples
were burnt in revenge for the burning of Sardis, and the
inhabitants were bound and placed as prisoners in the
neighbouring islet of AEgylia, to wait there till Datis should
bring the Athenians to join them in captivity, when both
populations were to be led into Upper Asia, there to learn their
doom from the lips of King Darius himself.

Flushed with success, and with half his mission thus

accomplished, Datis reimbarked his troops, and crossing the
little channel that separates Euboea from the mainland, he
encamped his troops on the Attic coast at Marathon, drawing up
his galleys on the shelving beach, as was the custom with the
navies of antiquity. The conquered islands behind him served as
places of deposit for his provisions and military stores. His
position at Marathon seemed to him in every respect advantageous;
and the level nature of the ground on which he camped was
favourable for the employment of his cavalry, if the Athenians
should venture to engage him. Hippias, who accompanied him, and
acted as the guide of the invaders, had pointed out Marathon as
the best place for a landing, for this very reason. Probably
Hippias was also influenced by the recollection, that forty-seven
years previously he, with his father Pisistratus, had crossed
with an army from Eretria to Marathon, and had won an easy
victory over their Athenian enemies on that very plain, which had
restored them to tyrannic power. The omen seemed cheering. The
place was the same; but Hippias soon learned to his cost how
great a change had come over the spirit of the Athenians.

But though "the fierce democracy" of Athens was zealous and true
against foreign invader and domestic tyrant, a faction existed in
Athens, as at Eretria, of men willing to purchase a party triumph
over their fellow-citizens at the price of their country's ruin.
Communications were opened between these men and the Persian
camp, which would have led to a catastrophe like that of Eretria,
if Miltiades had not resolved, and had not persuaded his
colleagues to resolve, on fighting at all hazards.

When Miltiades arrayed his men for action, he staked on the

arbitrement of one battle not only the fate of Athens, but that
of all Greece; for if Athens had fallen, no other Greek state,
except Lacedaemon, would have had the courage to resist; and the
Lacedaemonians, though they would probably have died in their
ranks to the last man, never could have successfully resisted the
victorious Persians, and the numerous Greek troops, which would
have soon marched under the Persian satraps, had they prevailed
over Athens.

Nor was there any power to the westward of Greece that could have
offered an effectual opposition to Persia, had she once conquered
Greece, and made that country a basis for future military
operations. Rome was at this time in her season of utmost
weakness. Her dynasty of powerful Etruscan kings had been driven
out, and her infant commonwealth was reeling under the attacks of
the Etruscans and Volscians from without, and the fierce
dissensions between the patricians and plebeians within.
Etruria, with her Lucumos and serfs, was no match for Persia.
Samnium had not grown into the might which she afterwards put
forth: nor could the Greek colonies in South Italy and Sicily
hope to survive when their parent states had perished. Carthage
had escaped the Persian yoke in the time of Cambyses, through the
reluctance of the Phoenician mariners to serve against their
kinsmen. But such forbearance could not long have been relied
on, and the future rival of Rome would have become as submissive
a minister of the Persian power as were the Phoenician cities
themselves. If we turn to Spain, or if we pass the great
mountain chain which, prolonged through the Pyrenees, the
Cevennes, the Alps, and the Balkan, divides Northern from
Southern Europe, we shall find nothing at that period but mere
savage Finns, Celts, Slaves, and Teutons. Had Persia beaten
Athens at Marathon, she could have found no obstacle to prevent
Darius, the chosen servant of Ormuzd, from advancing his sway
over all the known Western races of mankind. The infant energies
of Europe would have been trodden out beneath universal conquest;
and the history of the world, like the history of Asia, would
have become a mere record of the rise and fall of despotic
dynasties, of the incursions of barbarous hordes, and of the
mental and political prostration of millions beneath the diadem,
the tiara, and the sword.

Great as the preponderance of the Persian over the Athenian power

at that crisis seems to have been, it would be unjust to impute
wild rashness to the policy of Miltiades, and those who voted
with him in the Athenian council of war, or to look on the after-
current of events as the mere result of successful indiscretion.
as before has been remarked, Miltiades, whilst prince of the
Chersonese, had seen service in the Persian armies; and he knew
by personal observation how many elements of weakness lurked
beneath their imposing aspect of strength. He knew that the bulk
of their troops no longer consisted of the hardy shepherds and
mountaineers from Persia Proper and Kurdistan, who won Cyrus's
battles: but that unwilling contingents from conquered nations
now largely filled up the Persian muster rolls, fighting more
from compulsion than from any zeal in the cause of their masters.
He had also the sagacity and the spirit to appreciate the
superiority of the Greek armour and organization over the
Asiatic, notwithstanding former reverses. Above all, he felt and
worthily trusted the enthusiasm of the men under his command.

The Athenians, whom he led, had proved by their new-born valour

in recent wars against the neighbouring states, that "Liberty and
Equality of civic rights are brave spirit-stirring things: and
they who, while under the yoke of a despot, had been no better
men of war than any of their neighbours, as soon as they were
free, became the foremost men of all; for each felt that in
fighting for a free commonwealth, he fought for himself, and,
whatever he took in hand, he was zealous to do the work
thoroughly." So the nearly contemporaneous historian describes
the change of spirit that was seen in the Athenians after their
tyrants were expelled; [Herod. lib. v. c. 87.] and Miltiades
knew that in leading them against the invading army, where they
had Hippias, the foe they most hated, before them, he was
bringing into battle no ordinary men, and could calculate on no
ordinary heroism. As for traitors, he was sure, that whatever
treachery might lurk among some of the higher-born and wealthier
Athenians, the rank and file whom he commanded were ready to do
their utmost in his and their own cause. With regard to future
attacks from Asia, he might reasonably hope that one victory
would inspirit all Greece to combine against common foe; and that
the latent seeds of revolt and disunion in the Persian empire
would soon burst forth and paralyse its energies, so as to leave
Greek independence secure.

With these hopes and risks, Miltiades, on the afternoon of a

September day, 490 B.C., gave the word for the Athenian army to
prepare for battle. There were many local associations connected
with those mountain heights, which were calculated powerfully to
excite the spirits of the men, and of which the commanders well
knew how to avail themselves in their exhortations to their
troops before the encounter. Marathon itself was a region sacred
to; Hercules. Close to them was the fountain of Macaria, who had
in days of yore devoted herself to death for the liberty of her
people. The very plain on which they were to fight was the scene
of the exploits of their national hero, Theseus; and there, too,
as old legends told, the Athenians and the Heraclidae had routed
the invader, Eurystheus. These traditions were not mere cloudy
myths, or idle fictions, but matters of implicit earnest faith to
the men of that day: and many a fervent prayer arose from the
Athenian ranks to the heroic spirits who while on earth had
striven and suffered on that very spot, and who were believed to
be now heavenly powers, looking down with interest on their still
beloved country, and capable of interposing with superhuman aid
in its behalf.

According to old national custom, the warriors of each tribe were

arrayed together; neighbour thus fighting by the side of
neighbour, friend by friend, and the spirit of emulation and the
consciousness of responsibility excited to the very utmost. The
War-Ruler, Callimachus, had the leading of the right wing; the
Plataeans formed the extreme left; and Themistocles and Aristides
commanded the centre. The line consisted of the heavy-armed
spearmen only. For the Greeks (until the time of Iphicrates)
took little or no account of light-armed soldiers in a pitched
battle, using them only in skirmishes or for the pursuit of a
defeated enemy. The panoply of the regular infantry consisted of
a long spear, of a shield, helmet, breast-plate, greaves, and
short sword. Thus equipped, they usually advanced slowly and
steadily into action in an uniform phalanx of about eight spears
deep. But the military genius of Miltiades led him to deviate on
this occasion from the commonplace tactics of his countrymen. It
was essential for him to extend his line so as to cover all the
practicable ground, and to secure himself from being outflanked
and charged in the rear by the Persian horse. This extension
involved the weakening of his line. Instead of an uniform
reduction of its strength, he determined on detaching principally
from his centre, which, from the nature of the ground, would have
the best opportunities for rallying if broken; and on
strengthening his wings, so as to insure advantage at those
points; and he trusted to his own skill, and to his soldiers'
discipline, for the improvement of that advantage into decisive
victory.

[It is remarkable that there is no other instance of a Greek

general deviating from the ordinary mode of bringing a phalanx of
spearmen into action, until the battles of Leuctra and Mantineia,
more than a century after Marathon, when Epaminondas introduced
the tactics (which Alexander the Great in ancient times, and
Frederic the Great in modern times, made so famous) of
concentrating an overpowering force on some decisive point of the
enemy's line, while he kept back, or, in military phrase, refused
the weaker part of his own.]

In this order, and availing himself probably of the inequalities

of the ground, so as to conceal his preparations from the enemy
till the last possible moment, Miltiades drew up the eleven
thousand infantry whose spears were to decide this crisis in the
struggle between the European and the Asiatic worlds. The
sacrifices, by which the favour of Heaven was sought, and its
will consulted, were announced to show propitious omens. The
trumpet sounded for action, and, chanting the hymn of battle, the
little army bore down upon the host of the foe. Then, too, along
the mountain slopes of Marathon must have resounded the mutual
exhortation which AEschylus, who fought in both battles, tells us
was afterwards heard over the waves of Salamis,--"On, sons of the
Greeks! Strike for the freedom of your country! strike for the
freedom of your children and of your wives--for the shrines of
your fathers' gods, and for the sepulchres of your sires. All--
all are now staked upon the strife!"

Instead of advancing at the usual slow pace of the phalanx,

Miltiades brought his men on at a run. They were all trained in
the exercises of the palaestra, so that there was no fear of
their ending the charge in breathless exhaustion: and it was of
the deepest importance for him to traverse as rapidly as possible
the space of about a mile of level ground, that lay between the
mountain foot and the Persian outposts, and so to get his troops
into close action before the Asiatic cavalry could mount, form,
and manoeuvre against him, or their archers keep him long under
bow-shot, and before the enemy's generals could fairly deploy
their masses.

"When the Persians," says Herodotus, "saw the Athenians running

down on them, without horse or bowmen, and scanty in numbers,
they thought them a set of madmen rushing upon certain
destruction." They began, however, to prepare to receive them
and the Eastern chiefs arrayed, as quickly as time and place
allowed, the varied races who served in their motley ranks.
Mountaineers from Hyrcania and Affghanistan, wild horsemen from
the steppes of Khorassan, the black archers of Ethiopia,
swordsmen from the banks of the Indus, the Oxus, the Euphrates,
and the Nile, made ready against the enemies of the Great King.
But no national cause inspired them, except the division of
native Persians; and in the large host there was no uniformity of
language, creed, race, or military system. Still, among them
there were many gallant men, under a veteran general; they were
familiarized with victory; and in contemptuous confidence their
infantry, which alone had time to form, awaited the Athenian
charge. On came the Greeks, with one unwavering line of levelled
spears, against which the light targets, the short lances and
scymetars of the Orientals offered weak defence. The front rank
of the Asiatics must have gone down to a man at the first shock.
Still they recoiled not, but strove by individual gallantry, and
by the weight of numbers, to make up for the disadvantages of
weapons and tactics, and to bear back the shallow line of the
Europeans. In the centre, where the native Persians and the
Sacae fought, they succeeded in breaking through the weaker part
of the Athenian phalanx; and the tribes led by Aristides and
Themistocles were, after a brave resistance, driven back over the
plain, and chased by the Persians up the valley towards the inner
country. There the nature of the ground gave the opportunity of
rallying and renewing the struggle: and meanwhile, the Greek
wings, where Miltiades had concentrated his chief strength, had
routed the Asiatics opposed to them; and the Athenian and
Plataean officers, instead of pursuing the fugitives, kept their
troops well in hand, and wheeling round they formed the two wings
together. Miltiades instantly led them against the Persian
centre, which had hitherto been triumphant, but which now fell
back, and prepared to encounter these new and unexpected
assailants. Aristides and Themistocles renewed the fight with
their re-organized troops, and the full force of the Greeks was
brought into close action with the Persian and Sacian divisions
of the enemy. Datis's veterans strove hard to keep their ground,
and evening [ARISTOPH. Vesvoe 1085.] was approaching before the
stern encounter was decided.

But the Persians, with their slight wicker shields, destitute of

body-armour, and never taught by training to keep the even front
and act with the regular movement of the Greek infantry, fought
at grievous disadvantage with their shorter and feebler weapons
against the compact array of well-armed Athenian and Plataean
spearmen, all perfectly drilled to perform each necessary
evolution in concert, and to preserve an uniform and unwavering
line in battle. In personal courage and in bodily activity the
Persians were not inferior to their adversaries. Their spirits
were not yet cowed by the recollection of former defeats; and
they lavished their lives freely, rather than forfeit the fame
which they had won by so many victories. While their rear ranks
poured an incessant shower of arrows over the heads of their
comrades, the foremost Persians kept rushing forward, sometimes
singly, sometimes in desperate groups of twelve or ten upon the
projecting spears of the Greeks, striving to force a lane into
the phalanx, and to bring their scimetars and daggers into play.
But the Greeks felt their superiority, and though the fatigue of
the long-continued action told heavily on their inferior numbers,
the sight of the carnage that they dealt amongst their assailants
nerved them to fight still more fiercely on.

[See the description, in the 62nd section of the ninth book of

Herodotus, of the gallantry shown by the Persian infantry against
the Lacedaemonians at Plataea. We have no similar detail of the
fight at Marathon, but we know that it was long and obstinately
contested (see the 113th section of the sixth book of Herodotus,
and the lines from the "Vespae" already quoted), and the spirit
of the Persians must have been even higher at Marathon than at
Plataea. In both battles it was only the true Persians and the
Sacae who showed this valour; the other Asiatics fled like
sheep.]

At last the previously unvanquished lords of Asia turned their

backs and fled, and the Greeks followed, striking them down, to
the water's edge, where the invaders were now hastily launching
their galleys, and seeking to embark and fly. Flushed with
success, the Athenians dashed at the fleet.

[The flying Mede, his shaftless broken bow;

The fiery Greek, his red pursuing spear;
Mountains above, Earth's, Ocean's plain below,
Death in the front, Destruction in the rear!
Such was the scene.--Byron's CHILDE HARROLD.]

"Bring fire, bring fire," was their cry; and they began to lay
hold of the ships. But here the Asiatics resisted desperately,
and the principal loss sustained by the Greeks was in the assault
on the fleet. Here fell the brave War-Ruler Callimachus, the
general Stesilaus, and other Athenians of note. Conspicuous
among them was Cynaegeirus, the brother of the tragic poet
AEschylus. He had grasped the ornamental work on the stern of
one of the galleys, and had his hand struck off by an axe. Seven
galleys were captured; but the Persians succeeded in saving the
rest. They pushed off from the fatal shore: but even here the
skill of Datis did not desert him, and he sailed round to the
western coast of Attica, in hopes to find the city unprotected,
and to gain possession of it from some of the partisans of
Hippias. Miltiades, however, saw and counteracted his manoeuvre.
Leaving Aristides, and the troops of his tribe, to guard the
spoil and the slain, the Athenian commander led his conquering
army by a rapid night-march back across the country to Athens.
And when the Persian fleet had doubled the Cape of Sunium and
sailed up to the Athenian harbour in the morning, Datis saw
arrayed on the heights above the city the troops before whom his
men had fled on the preceding evening. All hope of further
conquest in Europe for the time was abandoned, and the baffled
armada returned to the Asiatic coasts.
After the battle had been fought, but while the dead bodies were
yet on the ground, the promised reinforcement from Sparta
arrived. Two thousand Lacedaemonian spearmen, starting
immediately after the full moon, had marched the hundred and
fifty miles between Athens and Sparta in the wonderfully short
time of three days. Though too late to share in the glory of the
action, they requested to be allowed to march to the battle-field
to behold the Medes. They proceeded thither, gazed on the dead
bodies of the invaders, and then, praising the Athenians and what
they had done, they returned to Lacedaemon.

The number of the Persian dead was six thousand four hundred; of
the Athenians, a hundred and ninety-two. The number of Plataeans
who fell is not mentioned, but as they fought in the part of the
army which was not broken, it cannot have been large.

The apparent disproportion between the losses of the two armies

is not surprising, when we remember the armour of the Greek
spearmen, and the impossibility of heavy slaughter being
inflicted by sword or lance on troops so armed, as long as they
kept firm in their ranks. [Mitford well refers to Crecy,
Poictiers, and Agincourt, as instances of similar disparity of
loss between the conquerors and the conquered.]

The Athenian slain were buried on the field of battle. This was
contrary to the usual custom, according to which the bones of all
who fell fighting for their country in each year were deposited
in a public sepulchre in the suburb of Athens called the
Cerameicus. But it was felt that a distinction ought to be made
in the funeral honours paid to the men of Marathon, even as their
merit had been distinguished over that of all other Athenians. A
lofty mound was raised on the plain of Marathon, beneath which
the remains of the men of Athens who fell in the battle were
deposited. Ten columns were erected on the spot, one for each of
the Athenian tribes; and on the monumental column of each tribe
were graven the names of those of its members whose glory it was
to have fallen in the great battle of liberation. The antiquary
Pausanias read those names there six hundred years after the time
when they were first graven. The columns have long perished, but
the mound still marks the spot where the noblest heroes of
antiquity, the MARATHONOMAKHOI repose. [Pausanias states, with
implicit belief, that the battlefield was haunted at night by
supernatural beings, and that the noise of combatants and the
snorting of horses were heard to resound on it. The superstition
has survived the change of creeds, and the shepherds of the
neighbourhood still believe that spectral warriors contend on the
plain at midnight, and they say that they have heard the shouts
of the combatants and the neighing of the steeds. See Grote and
Thirlwall.]

A separate tumulus was raised over the bodies of the slain

Plataeans, and another over the light-armed slaves who had taken
part and had fallen in the battle. [It is probable that the
Greek light-armed irregulars were active in the attack on the
Persian ships and it was in this attack that the Greeks suffered
their principal loss.] There was also a distinct sepulchral
monument to the general to whose genius the victory was mainly
due. Miltiades did not live long after his achievement at
Marathon, but he lived long enough to experience a lamentable
reverse of his popularity and good fortune. As soon as the
Persians had quitted the western coasts of the AEgean, he
proposed to an assembly of the Athenian people that they should
fit out seventy galleys, with a proportionate force of soldiers
and military stores, and place them at his disposal; not telling
them whither he meant to proceed, but promising them that if they
would equip the force he asked for, and give him discretionary
powers, he would lead it to a land where there was gold in
abundance to be won with ease. The Greeks of that time believed
in the existence of Eastern realms teeming with gold, as firmly
as the Europeans of the sixteenth century believed in Eldorado of
the West. The Athenians probably thought that the recent victor
of Marathon, and former officer of Darius, was about to guide
them on a secret expedition against some wealthy and unprotected
cities of treasure in the Persian dominions. The armament was
voted and equipped, and sailed eastward from Attica, no one but
Miltiades knowing its destination, until the Greek isle of Paros
was reached, when his true object appeared. In former years,
while connected with the Persians as prince of the Chersonese,
Miltiades had been involved in a quarrel with one of the leading
men among the Parians, who had injured his credit and caused some
slights to be put upon him at the court of the Persian satrap,
Hydarnes. The feud had ever since rankled in the heart of the
Athenian chief, and he now attacked Paros for the sake of
avenging himself on his ancient enemy. His pretext, as general
of the Athenians, was, that the Parians had aided the armament of
Datis with a war-galley. The Parians pretended to treat about
terms of surrender, but used the time which they thus gained in
repairing the defective parts of the fortifications of their
city; and they then set the Athenians at defiance. So far, says
Herodotus, the accounts of all the Greeks agree. But the
Parians, in after years, told also a wild legend, how a captive
priestess of a Parian temple of the Deities of the Earth promised
Miltiades to give him the means of capturing Paros: how, at her
bidding, the Athenian general went alone at night and forced his
way into a holy shrine, near the city gate, but with what purpose
it was not known: how a supernatural awe came over him, and in
his flight he fell and fractured his leg: how an oracle
afterwards forbad the Parians to punish the sacrilegious and
traitorous priestess, "because it was fated that Miltiades should
come to an ill end, and she was only the instrument to lead him
to evil." Such was the tale that Herodotus heard at Paros.
Certain it was that Miltiades either dislocated or broke his leg
during an unsuccessful siege of that city, and returned home in
evil plight with his baffled and defeated forces.

The indignation of the Athenians was proportionate to the hope

and excitement which his promises had raised. Xanthippus, the
head of one of the first families in Athens, indicted him before
the supreme popular tribunal for the capital offence of having
deceived the people. His guilt was undeniable, and the Athenians
passed their verdict accordingly. But the recollections of
Lemnos and Marathon, and the sight of the fallen general who lay
stretched on a couch before them, pleaded successfully in
mitigation of punishment, and the sentence was commuted from
death to a fine of fifty talents. This was paid by his son, the
afterwards illustrious Cimon, Miltiades dying, soon after the
trial, of the injury which he had received at Paros.

[The common-place calumnies against the Athenians respecting

Miltiades have been well answered by Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton in
his "Rise and Fall of Athens," and Bishop Thirlwall in the second
volume of his "History of Greece;" but they have received their
most complete refutation from Mr. Grote in the fourth volume of
his History, p.490 et seq., and notes. I quite concur with him
that, "looking to the practice of the Athenian dicastery in
criminal cases, fifty talents was the minor penalty actually
proposed by the defenders of Miltiades themselves as a substitute
for the punishment of death. In those penal cases at Athens,
where the punishment was not fixed beforehand by the terms of the
law, if the person accused was found guilty, it was customary to
submit to the jurors subsequently and separately, the question as
to the amount of punishment. First, the accuser named the
penalty which he thought suitable; next, the accused person was
called upon to name an amount of penalty for himself, and the
jurors were constrained to take their choice between these two;
no third gradation of penalty being admissible for consideration.
Of course, under such circumstances, it was the interest of the
accused party to name, even in his own case, some real and
serious penalty, something which the jurors might be likely to
deem not wholly inadequate to his crime just proved; for if he
proposed some penalty only trifling, he drove them to far the
heavier sentence recommended by his opponent." The stories of
Miltiades having been cast into prison and died there, and of his
having been saved from death only by the interposition of the
Prytanis of the day, are, I think, rightly rejected by Mr. Grote
as the fictions of after ages. The silence of Herodotus
respecting them is decisive. It is true that Plato, in the
Gorgias, says that the Athenians passed a vote to throw Miltiades
into the Barathrum, and speaks of the interposition of the
Prytanis in his favour; but it is to be remembered that Plato,
with all his transcendent genius, was (as Niebuhr has termed him)
a very indifferent patriot, who loved to blacken the character of
his country's democratic institutions; and if the fact was that
the Prytanis, at the trial of Miltiades, opposed the vote of
capital punishment, and spoke in favour of the milder sentence,
Plato (in a passage written to show the misfortunes that befell
Athenian statesmen) would readily exaggerate this fact into the
story that appears in his text.]

The melancholy end of Miltiades, after his elevation to such a

height of power and glory, must often have been recalled to the
mind of the ancient Greeks by the sight of one, in particular, of
the memorials of the great battle which he won. This was the
remarkable statue (minutely described by Pausanias) which the
Athenians, in the time of Pericles, caused to be hewn out of a
huge block of marble, which, it was believed, had been provided
by Datis to form a trophy of the anticipated victory of the
Persians. Phidias fashioned out of this a colossal image of the
goddess Nemesis, the deity whose peculiar function was to visit
the exuberant prosperity both of nations and individuals with
sudden and awful reverses. This statue was placed in a temple of
the goddess at Rhamnus, about eight miles from Marathon, Athens
herself contained numerous memorials of her primary great
victory. Panenus, the cousin of Phidias, represented it in
fresco on the walls of the painted porch; and, centuries
afterwards, the figures of Miltiades and Callimachus at the head
of the Athenians were conspicuous in the fresco. The tutelary
deities were exhibited taking part in the fray. In the back-
ground were seen the Phoenician galleys; and nearer to the
spectator, the Athenians and the Plataeans (distinguished by
their leathern helmets) were chasing routed Asiatics into the
marshes and the sea. The battle was sculptured also on the
Temple of Victory in the Acropolis; and even now there may be
traced on the frieze the figures of the Persian combatants with
their lunar shields, their bows and quivers, their curved
scimetars, their loose trowsers, and Phrygian tiaras.
[Wordsworth's "Greece," p. 115.]

These and other memorials of Marathon were the produce of the

meridian age of Athenian intellectual splendour--of the age of
Phidias and Pericles. For it was not merely by the generation of
men whom the battle liberated from Hippias and the Medes, that
the transcendent importance of their victory was gratefully
recognised. Through the whole epoch of her prosperity, through
the long Olympiads of her decay, through centuries after her
fall, Athens looked back on the day of Marathon as the brightest
of her national existence.

By a natural blending of patriotic pride with grateful piety, the

very spirits of the Athenians who fell at Marathon were deified
by their countrymen. The inhabitants of the districts of
Marathon paid religious rites to them; and orators solemnly
invoked them in their most impassioned adjurations before the
assembled men of Athens. "Nothing was omitted that could keep
alive the remembrance of a deed which had first taught the
Athenian people to know its own strength, by measuring it with
the power which had subdued the greater part of the known world.
The consciousness thus awakened fixed its character, its station,
and its destiny; it was the spring of its later great actions and
ambitious enterprises. [Thirlwall.]

It was not indeed by one defeat, however signal, that the pride
of Persia could be broken, and her dreams of universal empire be
dispelled. Ten years afterwards she renewed her attempts upon
Europe on a grander scale of enterprise, and was repulsed by
Greece with greater and reiterated loss. Larger forces and
heavier slaughter than had been seen at Marathon signalised the
conflicts of Greeks and Persians at Artemisium, Salamis, Plataea,
and the Eurymedon. But mighty and momentous as these battles
were, they rank not with Marathon in importance. They originated
no new impulse. They turned back no current of fate. They were
merely confirmatory of the already existing bias which Marathon
had created. The day of Marathon is the critical epoch in the
history of the two nations. It broke for ever the spell of
Persian invincibility, which had paralysed men's minds. It
generated among the Greeks the spirit which beat back Xerxes, and
afterwards led on Xenophon, Agesilaus, and Alexander, in terrible
retaliation, through their Asiatic campaigns. It secured for
mankind the intellectual treasures of Athens, the growth of free
institutions the liberal enlightenment of the Western world, and
the gradual ascendency for many ages of the great principles of
European civilisation.

EXPLANATORY REMARKS ON SOME OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF THE BATTLE OF

MARATHON.

Nothing is said by Herodotus of the Persian cavalry taking any

part in the battle, although he mentions that Hippias recommended
the Persians to land at Marathon, because the plain was
favourable for cavalry evolutions. In the life of Miltiades,
which is usually cited as the production of Cornelius Nepos, but
which I believe to be of no authority whatever, it is said that
Miltiades protected his flanks from the enemy's horse by an
abattis of felled trees. While he was on the high ground he
would not have required this defence; and it is not likely that
the Persians would have allowed him to erect it on the plain.

Bishop Thirlwall calls our attention to a passage in Suidas,

where the proverb KHORIS HIPPEIS is said to have originated from
some Ionian Greeks, who were serving compulsorily in the army of
Datis, contriving to inform Miltiades that the Persian cavalry
had gone away, whereupon Miltiades immediately joined battle and
gained the victory. There may probably be a gleam of truth in
this legend. If Datis's cavalry was numerous, as the abundant
pastures of Euboea were close at hand, the Persian general, when
he thought, from the inaction of his enemy, that they did not
mean to come down from the heights and give battle, might
naturally send the larger part of his horse back across the
channel to the neighbourhood of Eretria, where he had already
left a detachment, and where his military stores must have been
deposited. The knowledge of such a movement would of course
confirm Miltiades in his resolution to bring on a speedy
engagement.

But, in truth, whatever amount of cavalry we suppose Datis to

have had with him on the day of Marathon, their inaction in the
battle is intelligible, if we believe the attack of the Athenian
spearmen to have been as sudden as it was rapid. The Persian
horse-soldier, on an alarm being given, had to take the shackles
off his horse, to strap the saddle on, and bridle him, besides
equipping himself (see Xenoph. Anab. lib.iii c.4); and when each
individual horseman was ready, the line had to be formed; and the
time that it takes to form the Oriental cavalry in line for a
charge, has, in all ages, been observed by Europeans.

The wet state of the marshes at each end of the plain, in the
time of year when the battle was fought, has been adverted to by
Mr Wordsworth; and this would hinder the Persian general from
arranging and employing his horsemen on his extreme wings, while
it also enabled the Greeks, as they came forward, to occupy the
whole breadth of the practicable ground with an unbroken line of
levelled spears, against which, if any Persian horse advanced
they would be driven back in confusion upon their own foot.

Even numerous and fully-arrayed bodies of cavalry have been

repeatedly broken, both in ancient and modern warfare, by
resolute charges of infantry. For instance, it was by an attack
of some picked cohorts that Caesar routed the Pompeian cavalry,
which had previously defeated his own at Pharsalia.

I have represented the battle of Marathon as beginning in the

afternoon, and ending towards evening. If it had lasted all day,
Herodotus would have probably mentioned that fact. That it ended
towards evening is, I think, proved by the line from the "Vespae"
which I have already quoted, and to which my attention was called
by Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton's account of the battle. I think
that the succeeding lines in Aristophanes, also already quoted,
justify the description which I have given of the rear-ranks of
the Persians keeping up a flight of arrows over the heads of
their comrades against the Greeks.

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS BETWEEN THE BATTLE OF MARATHON, B.C. 490, AND

THE DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS AT SYRACUSE, B.C. 413.

B.C. 490 to 487. All Asia is filled with the preparations made
by King Darius for a new expedition against Greece. Themistocles
persuades the Athenians to leave off dividing the proceeds of
their silver mines among themselves, and to employ the money in
strengthening their navy.

487. Egypt revolts from the Persians, and delays the expedition
against Greece.

485. Darius dies, and Xerxes his son becomes King of Persia in
his stead.

484 The Persians recover Egypt.

480 Xerxes invades Greece. Indecisive actions between the

Persian and Greek fleets at Artemisium. Destruction of the three
hundred Spartans at Thermopyae. The Athenians abandon Attica and
go on shipboard. Great naval victory of the Greeks at Salamis.
Xerxes returns to Asia, leaving a chosen army under Mardonius, to
carry on the war against the Greeks.

478. Mardonius and his army destroyed by the Greeks at Plataea

The Greeks land in Asia Minor, and defeat a Persian force at
Mycale. In this and the following years the Persians lose all
their conquests in Europe, and many on the coast of Asia.

477. Many of the Greek maritime states take Athens as their

leader, instead of Sparta.

466. Victories of Cimon over the Persians at the Eurymedon.

464. Revolt of the Helots against Sparta. Third Messenian war.

460. Egypt again revolts against Persia. The Athenians send a

powerful armament to aid the Egyptians, which, after gaining some
successes, is destroyed, and Egypt submits. This war lasted six
years.

457. Wars in Greece between the Athenian and several

Peloponnesian states. Immense exertions of Athens at this time.
"There is an original inscription still preserved in the Louvre,
which attests the energies of Athens at this crisis, when Athens,
like England in modern wars, at once sought conquests abroad, and
repelled enemies at home. At the period we now advert to (B.C.
457), an Athenian armament of two hundred galleys was engaged in
a bold though unsuccessful expedition against Egypt. The
Athenian crews had landed, had won a battle; they had then re-
embarked and sailed up the Nile, and were busily besieging the
Persian garrison in Memphis. As the complement of a trireme
galley was at least two hundred men, we cannot estimate the
forces then employed by Athens against Egypt at less than forty
thousand men. At the same time she kept squadrons on the coasts
of Phoenicia and Cyprus, and yet maintained a home-fleet that
enabled her to defeat her Peloponnesian enemies at Cecryphalae
and AEgina, capturing in the last engagement seventy galleys.
This last fact may give us some idea of the strength of the
Athenian home-fleet that gained the victory; and by adopting the
same ratio of multiplying whatever number of galleys we suppose
to have been employed, by two hundred, so as to gain the
aggregate number of the crews, we may form some estimate of the
forces which this little, Greek state then kept on foot. Between
sixty and seventy thousand men must have served in her fleets
during that year. Her tenacity of purpose was equal to her
boldness of enterprise. Sooner than yield or withdraw from any
of their expeditions the Athenians at this very time, when
Corinth sent an army to attack their garrison at Megara, did not
recall a single crew or a single soldier from AEgina or from
abroad; but the lads and old men, who had been left to guard the
city, fought and won a battle against these new assailants. The
inscription which we have referred to is graven on a votive
tablet to the memory of the dead, erected in that year by the
Erecthean tribe, one of the ten into which the Athenians were
divided. It shows, as Thirlwall has remarked, "that the
Athenians were conscious of the greatness of their own effort;"
and in it this little civic community of the ancient world still
"records to us with emphatic simplicity, that 'its slain fell in
Cyprus, in Egypt, in Phoenicia, at Haliae, in AEgina, and in
Megara, IN THE SAME YEAR.'" [Paeans of the Athenian Navy.]

455. A thirty years' truce concluded between Athens and

Lacedaemon.

440. The Samians endeavour to throw off the supremacy of Athens.

Samos completely reduced to subjection. Pericles is now sole
director of the Athenian councils.

431. Commencement of the great Peloponnesian war, in which

Sparta, at the head of nearly all the Peloponnesian states, and
aided by the Boeotians and some of the other Greeks beyond the
Isthmus, endeavours to reduce the power of Athens, and to restore
independence to the Greek maritime states who were the subject
allies of Athens. At the commencement of the war the
Peloponnesian armies repeatedly invade and ravage Attica, but
Athens herself is impregnable, and her fleets secure her the
dominion of the sea.

430. Athens visited by a pestilence, which sweeps off large

numbers of her population.
426. The Athenians gain great advantages over the Spartans at
Sphacteria, and by occupying Cythera; but they suffer a severe
defeat in Boeotia, and the Spartan general Brasidas, leads an
expedition to the Thracian coasts, and conquers many of the most
valuable Athenian possessions in those regions.

421. Nominal truce for thirty years between Athens and Sparta,
but hostilities continue on the Thracian coast and in other
quarters.

415. The Athenians send an expedition to conquer Sicily.

CHAPTER II.

DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS AT SYRACUSE, B.C.413.

"The Romans knew not, and could not know, how deeply the
greatness of their own posterity, and the fate of the whole
Western world, were involved in the destruction of the fleet of
Athens in the harbour of Syracuse. Had that great expedition
proved victorious, the energies of Greece during the next
eventful century would have found their field in the West no less
than in the East; Greece, and not Rome, might have conquered
Carthage; Greek instead of Latin might have been at this day the
principal element of the language of Spain, of France, and of
Italy; and the laws of Athens, rather than of Rome, might be the
foundation of the law of the civilized world."--ARNOLD. "The
great expedition to Sicily, one of the most decisive events in
the history of the world."--NIEBUHR.

Few cities have undergone more memorable sieges during ancient

and mediaeval times, than has the city of Syracuse. Athenian,
Carthaginian, Roman, Vandal, Byzantine, Saracen, and Norman, have
in turns beleaguered her walls; and the resistance which she
successfully opposed to some of her early assailants was of the
deepest importance, not only to the fortunes of the generations
then in being, but to all the subsequent current of human events.
To adopt the eloquent expressions of Arnold respecting the check
which she gave to the Carthaginian arms, "Syracuse was a
breakwater, which God's providence raised up to protect the yet
immature strength of Rome." And her triumphant repulse of the
great Athenian expedition against her was of even more wide-
spread and enduring importance. It forms a decisive epoch in the
strife for universal empire, in which all the great states of
antiquity successively engaged and failed.

The present city of Syracuse is a place of little or no military

strength, as the fire of artillery from the neighbouring heights
would almost completely command it. But in ancient warfare its
position, and the care bestowed on its walls, rendered it
formidably strong against the means of offence which then were
employed by besieging armies.

The ancient city, in the time of the Peloponnesian war, was

chiefly built on the knob of land which projects into the sea on
the eastern coast of Sicily, between two bays; one of which, to
the north, was called the bay of Thapsus, while the southern one
formed the great harbour of the city of Syracuse itself. A small
island, or peninsula (for such it soon was rendered), lies at the
south-eastern extremity of this knob of land, stretching almost
entirely across the mouth of the great harbour, and rendering it
nearly land-locked. This island comprised the original
settlement of the first Greek colonists from Corinth, who founded
Syracuse two thousand five hundred years ago; and the modern city
has shrunk again into these primary limits. But, in the fifth
century before our era, the growing wealth and population of the
Syracusans had led them to occupy and include within their city
walls portion after portion of the mainland lying next to the
little isle; so that at the time of the Athenian expedition the
seaward part of the land between the two bays already spoken of
was built over, and fortified from bay to bay; constituting the
larger part of Syracuse.

The landward wall, therefore, of the city traversed this knob of

land, which continues to slope upwards from the sea, and which to
the west of the old fortifications (that is, towards the interior
of Sicily) rises rapidly for a mile or two, but diminishes in
width, and finally terminates in a long narrow ridge, between
which and Mount Hybla a succession of chasms and uneven low
ground extend. On each flank of this ridge the descent is steep
and precipitous from its summits to the strips of level land that
lie immediately below it, both to the south-west and north-west.

The usual mode of assailing fortified towns in the time of the

Peloponnesian war, was to build a double wall round them,
sufficiently strong to check any sally of the garrison from
within, or any attack of a relieving force from without. The
interval within the two walls of the circumvallation was roofed
over, and formed barracks, in which the besiegers posted
themselves, and awaited the effects of want or treachery among
the besieged in producing a surrender. And, in every Greek city
of those days, as in every Italian republic of the middle ages,
the rage of domestic sedition between aristocrats and democrats
ran high. Rancorous refugees swarmed in the camp of every
invading enemy; and every blockaded city was sure to contain
within its walls a body of intriguing malcontents, who were eager
to purchase a party-triumph at the expense of a national
disaster. Famine and faction were the allies on whom besiegers
relied. The generals of that time trusted to the operation of
these sure confederates as soon as they could establish a
complete blockade. They rarely ventured on the attempt to storm
any fortified post. For the military engines of antiquity were
feeble in breaching masonry, before the improvements which the
first Dionysius effected in the mechanics of destruction; and the
lives of spearmen the boldest and most highly-trained would, of
course, have been idly spent in charges against unshattered
walls.

A city built, close to the sea, like Syracuse, was impregnable,

save by the combined operations of a superior hostile fleet and a
superior hostile army. And Syracuse, from her size, her
population, and her military and naval resources, not unnaturally
thought herself secure from finding in another Greek city a foe
capable of sending a sufficient armament to menace her with
capture and subjection. But in the spring of 414 B.C. the
Athenian navy was mistress of her harbour and the adjacent seas;
an Athenian army had defeated her troops, and cooped them within
the town; and from bay to bay a blockading wall was being rapidly
carried across the strips of level ground and the high ridge
outside the city (then termed Epipolae), which, if completed,
would have cut the Syracusans off from all succour from the
interior of Sicily, and have left them at the mercy of the
Athenian generals. The besiegers' works were, indeed,
unfinished; but every day the unfortified interval in their lines
grew narrower, and with it diminished all apparent hope of safety
for the beleaguered town.

Athens was now staking the flower of her forces, and the
accumulated fruits of seventy years of glory, on one bold throw
for the dominion of the Western world. As Napoleon from Mount
Coeur de Lion pointed to St. Jean d'Acre, and told his staff that
the capture of that town would decide his destiny, and would
change the face of the world; so the Athenian officers, from the
heights of Epipolae, must have looked on Syracuse, and felt that
with its fall all the known powers of the earth would fall
beneath them. They must have felt also that Athens, if repulsed
there, must pause for ever in her career of conquest, and sink
from an imperial republic into a ruined and subservient
community.

At Marathon, the first in date of the Great Battles of the World,

we beheld Athens struggling for self-preservation against the
invading armies of the East. At Syracuse she appears as the
ambitious and oppressive invader of others. In her, as in other
republics of old and of modern times, the same energy that had
inspired the most heroic efforts in defence of the national
independence, soon learned to employ itself in daring and
unscrupulous schemes of self-aggrandizement at the expense of
neighbouring nations. In the interval between the Persian and
Peloponnesian wars she had rapidly grown into a conquering and
dominant state, the chief of a thousand tributary cities, and the
mistress of the largest and best-manned navy that the
Mediterranean had yet beheld. The occupations of her territory
by Xerxes and Mardonius, in the second Persian war, had forced
her whole population to become mariners; and the glorious results
of that struggle confirmed them in their zeal for their country's
service at sea. The voluntary suffrage of the Greek cities of
the coasts and islands of the AEgean first placed Athens at the
head of the confederation formed for the further prosecution of
the war against Persia. But this titular ascendancy was soon
converted by her into practical and arbitrary dominion. She
protected them from piracy and the Persian power, which soon fell
into decrepitude and decay; but she exacted in return implicit
obedience to herself. She claimed and enforced a prerogative of
taxing them at her discretion; and proudly refused to be
accountable for her mode of expending their supplies.
Remonstrance against her assessments was treated as factious
disloyalty; and refusal to pay was promptly punished as revolt.
Permitting and encouraging her subject allies to furnish all
their contingents in money, instead of part consisting of ships
and men, the sovereign republic gained the double object of
training her own citizens by constant and well-paid service in
her fleets, and of seeing her confederates lose their skill and
discipline by inaction, and become more and more passive and
powerless under her yoke. Their towns were generally dismantled;
while the imperial city herself was fortified with the greatest
care and sumptuousness: the accumulated revenues from her
tributaries serving to strengthen and adorn to the utmost her
havens, her docks, her arsenals, her theatres, and her shrines;
and to array her in that plenitude of architectural magnificence,
the ruins of which still attest the intellectual grandeur of the
age and people, which produced a Pericles to plan and a Phidias
to execute.

All republics that acquire supremacy over other nations, rule

them selfishly and oppressively. There is no exception to this
in either ancient or modern times. Carthage, Rome, Venice,
Genoa, Florence, Pisa, Holland, and Republican France, all
tyrannized over every province and subject state where they
gained authority. But none of them openly avowed their system of
doing so upon principle, with the candour which the Athenian
republicans displayed, when any remonstrance was made against the
severe exactions which they imposed upon their vassal allies.
They avowed that their empire was a tyranny, and frankly stated
that they solely trusted to force and terror to uphold it. They
appealed to what they called "the eternal law of nature, that the
weak should be coerced by the strong." [THUC. i. 77.] Sometimes
they stated, and not without some truth, that the unjust hatred
of Sparta against themselves forced them to be unjust to others
in self-defence. To be safe they must be powerful; and to be
powerful they must plunder and coerce their neighbours. They
never dreamed of communicating any franchise, or share in office,
to their dependents; but jealously monopolized every post of
command, and all political and judicial power; exposing
themselves to every risk with unflinching gallantry; enduring
cheerfully the laborious training and severe discipline which
their sea-service required; venturing readily on every ambitious
scheme; and never suffering difficulty or disaster to shake their
tenacity of purpose. Their hope was to acquire unbounded empire
for their country, and the means of maintaining each of the
thirty thousand citizens who made up the sovereign republic, in
exclusive devotion to military occupations, and to those
brilliant sciences and arts in which Athens already had reached
the meridian of intellectual splendour.

Her great political, dramatist speaks of the Athenian empire as

comprehending a thousand states. The language of the stage must
not be taken too literally; but the number of the dependencies of
Athens, at the time when the Peloponnesian confederacy attacked
her, was undoubtedly very great. With a few trifling exceptions,
all the islands of the AEgean, and all the Greek cities, which in
that age fringed the coasts of Asia Minor, the Hellespont, and
Thrace paid tribute to Athens, and implicitly obeyed her orders.
The AEgean Sea was an Attic lake. Westward of Greece, her
influence though strong, was not equally predominant. She had
colonies and allies among the wealthy and populous Greek
settlements in Sicily and South Italy, but she had no organized
system of confederates in those regions; and her galleys brought
her no tribute from the western seas. The extension of her
empire over Sicily was the favourite project of her ambitious
orators and generals. While her great statesman Pericles lived,
his commanding genius kept his countrymen under control and
forbade them to risk the fortunes of Athens in distant
enterprises, while they had unsubdued and powerful enemies at
their own doors. He taught Athens this maxim; but he also taught
her to know and to use her own strength, and when Pericles had
departed the bold spirit which he had fostered overleaped the
salutary limits which he had prescribed. When her bitter
enemies, the Corinthians, succeeded, in 431 B.C., in inducing
Sparta to attack her, and a confederacy was formed of five-sixths
of the continental Greeks, all animated by anxious jealousy and
bitter hatred of Athens; when armies far superior in numbers and
equipment to those which had marched against the Persians were
poured into the Athenian territory, and laid it waste to the city
walls; the general opinion was that Athens would, in two or three
years at the farthest, be reduced to submit to the requisitions
of her invaders. But her strong fortifications, by which she was
girt and linked to her principal haven, gave her, in those ages,
almost all the advantages of an insular position. Pericles had
made her trust to her empire of the seas. Every Athenian in
those days was a practised seaman. A state indeed whose members,
of an age fit for service, at no time exceeded thirty thousand,
and whose territorial extent did not equal half Sussex, could
only have acquired such a naval dominion as Athens once held, by
devoting, and zealously training, all its sons to service in its
fleets. In order to man the numerous galleys which she sent out,
she necessarily employed also large numbers of hired mariners and
slaves at the oar; but the staple of her crews was Athenian, and
all posts of command were held by native citizens. It was by
reminding them of this, of their long practice in seamanship, and
the certain superiority which their discipline gave them over the
enemy's marine, that their great minister mainly encouraged them
to resist the combined power of Lacedaemon and her allies. He
taught them that Athens might thus reap the fruit of her zealous
devotion to maritime affairs ever since the invasion of the
Medes; "she had not, indeed, perfected herself; but the reward of
her superior training was the rule of the sea--a mighty dominion,
for it gave her the rule of much fair land beyond its waves, safe
from the idle ravages with which the Lacedaemonians might harass
Attica, but never could subdue Athens." [THUC. lib. i. sec. 144.]

Athens accepted the war with which her enemies threatened her,
rather than descend from her pride of place. And though the
awful visitation of the Plague came upon her, and swept away more
of her citizens than the Dorian spear laid low, she held her own
gallantly against her foes. If the Peloponnesian armies in
irresistible strength wasted every spring her corn lands, her
vineyards, and her olive groves with fire and sword, she
retaliated on their coasts with her fleets; which, if resisted,
were only resisted to display the pre-eminent skill and bravery
of her seamen. Some of her subject-allies revolted, but the
revolts were in general sternly and promptly quelled. The genius
of one enemy had, indeed, inflicted blows on her power in Thrace
which she was unable to remedy; but he fell in battle in the
tenth year of the war; and with the loss of Brasidas the
Lacedaemonians seemed to have lost all energy and judgment. Both
sides at length grew weary of the war; and in 421 B.C. a truce of
fifty years was concluded, which, though ill kept, and though
many of the confederates of Sparta refused to recognise it, and
hostilities still continued in many parts of Greece, protected
the Athenian territory from the ravages of enemies, and enabled
Athens to accumulate large sums out of the proceeds of her annual
revenues. So also, as a few years passed by, the havoc which the
pestilence and the sword had made in her population was repaired;
and in 415 B.C. Athens was full of bold and restless spirits, who
longed for some field of distant enterprise, wherein they might
signalize themselves, and aggrandize the state; and who looked on
the alarm of Spartan hostility as a mere old woman's tale. When
Sparta had wasted their territory she had done her worst; and the
fact of its always being in her power to do so, seemed a strong
reason for seeking to increase the transmarine dominion of
Athens.

The West was now the quarter towards which the thoughts of every
aspiring Athenian were directed. From the very beginning of the
war Athens had kept up an interest in Sicily; and her squadrons
had from time to time appeared on its coasts and taken part in
the dissensions in which the Sicilian Greeks were universally
engaged one against the other. There were plausible grounds for
a direct quarrel, and an open attack by the Athenians upon
Syracuse.

With the capture of Syracuse all Sicily, it was hoped, would be

secured. Carthage and Italy were next to be assailed. With
large levies of Iberian mercenaries she then meant to overwhelm
her Peloponnesian enemies. The Persian monarchy lay in hopeless
imbecility, inviting Greek invasion; nor did the known world
contain the power that seemed capable of checking the growing
might of Athens, if Syracuse once could be hers.

The national historian of Rome has left us, as an episode of his

great work, a disquisition on the probable effects that would
have followed, if Alexander the Great had invaded Italy.
Posterity has generally regarded that disquisition as proving
Livy's patriotism more strongly than his impartiality or
acuteness. Yet, right or wrong, the speculations of the Roman
writer were directed to the consideration of a very remote
possibility. To whatever age Alexander's life might have been
prolonged, the East would have furnished full occupation for his
martial ambition, as well as for those schemes of commercial
grandeur and imperial amalgamation of nations, in which the truly
great qualities of his mind loved to display themselves. With
his death the dismemberment of his empire among his generals was
certain, even as the dismemberment of Napoleon's empire among his
marshals would certainly have ensued, if he had been cut off in
the zenith of his power. Rome, also, was far weaker when the
Athenians were in Sicily, than she was a century afterwards, in
Alexander's time. There can be little doubt but that Rome would
have been blotted out from the independent powers of the West,
had she been attacked at the end of the fifth century B.C., by an
Athenian army, largely aided by Spanish mercenaries, and flushed
with triumphs over Sicily and Africa; instead of the collision
between her and Greece having been deferred until the latter had
sunk into decrepitude, and the Roman Mars had grown into full
vigour.
The armament which the Athenians equipped against Syracuse was in
every way worthy of the state which formed such projects of
universal empire; and it has been truly termed "the noblest that
ever yet had been sent forth by a free and civilized
commonwealth." [Arnold's History of Rome.] The fleet consisted
of one hundred and thirty-four war galleys, with a multitude of
store ships. A powerful force of the best heavy-armed infantry
that Athens and her allies could furnish was sent on board,
together with a smaller number of slingers and bowmen. The
quality of the forces was even more remarkable than the number.
The zeal of individuals vied with that of the republic in giving
every galley the best possible crew, and every troop the most
perfect accoutrements. And with private as well as public wealth
eagerly lavished on all that could give splendour as well as
efficiency to the expedition, the fated fleet began its voyage
for the Sicilian shores in the summer of 415 B.C.

The Syracusans themselves, at the time of the Peloponnesian war,

were a bold and turbulent democracy, tyrannizing over the weaker
Greek cities in Sicily, and trying to gain in that island the
same arbitrary supremacy which Athens maintained along the
eastern coast of the Mediterranean. In numbers and in spirit
they were fully equal to the Athenians, but far inferior to them
in military and naval discipline. When the probability of an
Athenian invasion was first publicly discussed at Syracuse, and
efforts were made by some of the wiser citizens to improve the
state of the national defences, and prepare for the impending
danger, the rumours of coming war and the proposals for
preparation were received by the mass of the Syracusans with
scornful incredulity. The speech of one of their popular orators
is preserved to us in Thucydides, [Lib. vi. sec. 36 et seq.,
Arnold's edition. I have almost literally transcribed some of
the marginal epitomes of the original speech.] and many of its
topics might, by a slight alteration of names and details, serve
admirably for the party among ourselves at present which opposes
the augmentation of our forces, and derides the idea of our being
in any peril from the sudden attack of a French expedition. The
Syracusan orator told his countrymen to dismiss with scorn the
visionary terrors which a set of designing men among themselves
strove to excite, in order to get power and influence thrown into
their own hands. He told them that Athens knew her own interest
too well to think of wantonly provoking their hostility:--"EVEN
IF THE ENEMIES WERE TO COME," said he, "SO DISTANT FROM THEIR
RESOURCES, AND OPPOSED TO SUCH A POWER AS OURS, THEIR DESTRUCTION
WOULD BE EASY AND INEVITABLE. THEIR SHIPS WILL HAVE ENOUGH TO DO
TO GET TO OUR ISLAND AT ALL, AND TO CARRY SUCH STORES OF ALL
SORTS AS WILL BE NEEDED. THEY CANNOT THEREFORE CARRY, BESIDES,
AN ARMY LARGE ENOUGH TO COPE WITH SUCH A POPULATION AS OURS.
THEY WILL HAVE NO FORTIFIED PLACE FROM WHICH TO COMMENCE THEIR
OPERATIONS; BUT MUST REST THEM ON NO BETTER BASE THAN A SET OF
WRETCHED TENTS, AND SUCH MEANS AS THE NECESSITIES OF THE MOMENT
WILL ALLOW THEM. BUT IN TRUTH I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT THEY WOULD
EVEN BE ABLE TO EFFECT A DISEMBARKATION. LET US, THEREFORE, SET
AT NOUGHT THESE REPORTS AS ALTOGETHER OF HOME MANUFACTURE; AND BE
SURE THAT IF ANY ENEMY DOES COME, THE STATE WILL KNOW HOW TO
DEFEND ITSELF IN A MANNER WORTHY OF THE NATIONAL HONOUR."
Such assertions pleased the Syracusan assembly; and their
counterparts find favour now among some portion of the English
public. But the invaders of Syracuse came; made good their
landing in Sicily; and, if they had promptly attacked the city
itself, instead of wasting nearly a year in desultory operations
in other parts of the island, the Syracusans must have paid the
penalty of their self-sufficient carelessness in submission to
the Athenian yoke. But, of the three generals who led the
Athenian expedition, two only were men of ability, and one was
most weak and incompetent. Fortunately for Syracuse, Alcibiades,
the most skilful of the three, was soon deposed from his command
by a factious and fanatic vote of his fellow-countrymen, and the
other competent one, Lamachus, fell early in a skirmish: while,
more fortunately still for her, the feeble and vacillating Nicias
remained unrecalled and unhurt, to assume the undivided
leadership of the Athenian army and fleet, and to mar, by
alternate over-caution and over-carelessness, every chance of
success which the early part of the operations offered. Still,
even under him, the Athenians nearly won the town. They defeated
the raw levies of the Syracusans, cooped them within the walls,
and, as before mentioned, almost effected a continuous
fortification from bay to bay over Epipolae, the completion of
which would certainly have been followed by capitulation.

Alcibiades, the most complete example of genius without principle

that history produces, the Bolingbroke of antiquity, but with
high military talents superadded to diplomatic and oratorical
powers, on being summoned home from his command in Sicily to take
his trial before the Athenian tribunal had escaped to Sparta; and
he exerted himself there with all the selfish rancour of a
renegade to renew the war with Athens, and to send instant
assistance to Syracuse.

When we read his words in the pages of Thucydides (who was

himself an exile from Athens at this period, and may probably
have been at Sparta, and heard Alcibiades speak), we are at loss
whether most to admire or abhor his subtile and traitorous
counsels. After an artful exordium, in which he tried to disarm
the suspicions which he felt must be entertained of him, and to
point out to the Spartans how completely his interests and theirs
were identified, through hatred of the Athenian democracy, he
thus proceeded:--"Hear me, at any rate, on the matters which
require your grave attention, and which I, from the personal
knowledge that I have of them, can and ought to bring before you.
We Athenians sailed to Sicily with the design of subduing, first
the Greek cities there, and next those in Italy. Then we
intended to make an attempt on the dominions of Carthage, and on
Carthage itself. [Arnold, in his notes on this passage, well
reminds the reader that Agathocles, with a Greek force far
inferior to that of the Athenians at this period, did, a century
afterwards, very nearly conquer Carthage.] If all these projects
succeeded (nor did we limit ourselves to them in these quarters),
we intended to increase our fleet with the inexhaustible supplies
of ship timber which Italy affords, to put in requisition the
whole military force of the conquered Greek states, and also to
hire large armies of the barbarians; of the Iberians, and others
in those regions, who are allowed to make the best possible
soldiers. [It will be remembered that Spanish infantry were the
staple of the Carthaginian armies. Doubtless Alcibiades and
other leading Athenians had made themselves acquainted with the
Carthaginian system of carrying on war, and meant to adopt it.
With the marvellous powers which Alcibiades possessed of
ingratiating himself with men of every class and every nation,
and his high military genius, he would have been as formidable a
chief of an army of CONDOTTIERI as Hannibal afterwards was.]
Then, when we had done all this, we intended to assail
Peloponnesus with our collected force. Our fleets would blockade
you by sea, and desolate your coasts; our armies would be landed
at different points, and assail your cities. Some of these we
expected to storm and others we meant to take by surrounding them
with fortified lines. [Alcibiades here alluded to Sparta itself,
which was unfortified. His Spartan hearers must have glanced
round them at these words, with mixed alarm and indignation.] We
thought that it would thus be an easy matter thoroughly to war
you down; and then we should become the masters of the whole
Greek race. As for expense, we reckoned that each conquered
state would give us supplies of money and provisions sufficient
to pay for its own conquest, and furnish the means for the
conquest of its neighbours.

"Such are the designs of the present Athenian expedition to

Sicily, and you have heard them from the lips of the man who, of
all men living, is most accurately acquainted with them. The
other Athenian generals, who remain with the expedition, will
endeavour to carry out these plans. And be sure that without
your speedy interference they will all be accomplished. The
Sicilian Greeks are deficient in military training; but still if
they could be at once brought to combine in an organised
resistance to Athens, they might even now be saved. But as for
the Syracusans resisting Athens by themselves, they have already
with the whole strength of their population fought a battle and
been beaten; they cannot face the Athenians at sea; and it is
quite impossible for them to hold out against the force of their
invaders. And if this city falls into the hands of the
Athenians, all Sicily is theirs, and presently Italy also: and
the danger which I warned you of from that quarter will soon fall
upon yourselves. You must, therefore, in Sicily fight for the
safety of Peloponnesus. Send some galleys thither instantly.
Put men on board who can work their own way over, and who, as
soon as they land, can do duty as regular troops. But above all,
let one of yourselves, let a man of Sparta, go over to take the
chief command, to bring into order and effective discipline the
forces that are in Syracuse, and urge those, who at present hang
back to come forward and aid the Syracusans. The presence of a
Spartan general at this crisis will do more to save the city than
a whole army." [THUC., lib. vi sec. 90,91.] The renegade then
proceeded to urge on them the necessity of encouraging their
friends in Sicily, by showing that they themselves were earnest
in hostility to Athens. He exhorted them not only to march their
armies into Attica again, but to take up a permanent fortified
position in the country: and he gave them in detail information
of all that the Athenians most dreaded, and how his country might
receive the most distressing and enduring injury at their hands.

The Spartans resolved to act on his advice, and appointed

Gylippus to the Sicilian command. Gylippus was a man who, to the
national bravery and military skill of a Spartan, united
political sagacity that was worthy of his great fellow-countryman
Brasidas; but his merits were debased by mean and sordid vice;
and his is one of the cases in which history has been austerely
just, and where little or no fame has been accorded to the
successful but venal soldier. But for the purpose for which he
was required in Sicily, an abler man could not have been found in
Lacedaemon. His country gave him neither men nor money, but she
gave him her authority; and the influence of her name and of his
own talents was speedily seen in the zeal with which the
Corinthians and other Peloponnesian Greeks began to equip a
squadron to act under him for the rescue of Sicily. As soon as
four galleys were ready, he hurried over with them to the
southern coast of Italy; and there, though he received such evil
tidings of the state of Syracuse that he abandoned all hope of
saving that city, he determined to remain on the coast, and do
what he could in preserving the Italian cities from the
Athenians.

So nearly, indeed, had Nicias completed his beleaguering lines,

and so utterly desperate had the state of Syracuse seemingly
become, that an assembly of the Syracusans was actually convened,
and they were discussing the terms on which they should offer to
capitulate, when a galley was seen dashing into the great
harbour, and making her way towards the town with all the speed
that her rowers could supply. From her shunning the part of the
harbour where the Athenian fleet lay, and making straight for the
Syracusan side, it was clear that she was a friend; the enemy's
cruisers, careless through confidence of success, made no attempt
to cut her off; she touched the beach, and a Corinthian captain
springing on shore from her, was eagerly conducted to the
assembly of the Syracusan people, just in time to prevent the
fatal vote being put for a surrender.

Providentially for Syracuse, Gongylus, the commander of the

galley, had been prevented by an Athenian squadron from following
Gylippus to South Italy, and he had been obliged to push direct
for Syracuse from Greece.

The sight of actual succour, and the promise of more, revived the
drooping spirits of the Syracusans. They felt that they were not
left desolate to perish; and the tidings that a Spartan was
coming to command them confirmed their resolution to continue
their resistance. Gylippus was already near the city. He had
learned at Locri that the first report which had reached him of
the state of Syracuse was exaggerated; and that there was an
unfinished space in the besiegers' lines through which it was
barely possible to introduce reinforcements into the town.
Crossing the straits of Messina, which the culpable negligence of
Nicias had left unguarded, Gylippus landed on the northern coast
of Sicily, and there began to collect from the Greek cities an
army, of which the regular troops that he brought from
Peloponnesus formed the nucleus. Such was the influence of the
name of Sparta, [The effect of the presence of a Spartan officer
on the troops of the other Greeks, seems to have been like the
effect of the presence of an English officer upon native Indian
troops.] and such were his own abilities and activity, that he
succeeded in raising a force of about two thousand fully armed
infantry, with a larger number of irregular troops. Nicias, as
if infatuated, made no attempt to counteract his operations; nor,
when Gylippus marched his little army towards Syracuse, did the
Athenian commander endeavour to check him. The Syracusans
marched out to meet him: and while the Athenians were solely
intent on completing their fortifications on the southern side
towards the harbour, Gylippus turned their position by occupying
the high ground in the extreme rear of Epipolae. He then marched
through the unfortified interval of Nicias's lines into the
besieged town; and, joining his troops with the Syracusan forces,
after some engagements with varying success, gained the mastery
over Nicias, drove the Athenians from Epipolae, and hemmed them
into a disadvantageous position in the low grounds near the great
harbour.

The attention of all Greece was now fixed on Syracuse; and every
enemy of Athens felt the importance of the opportunity now
offered of checking her ambition, and, perhaps, of striking a
deadly blow at her power. Large reinforcements from Corinth,
Thebes, and other cities, now reached the Syracusans; while the
baffled and dispirited Athenian general earnestly besought his
countrymen to recall him, and represented the further prosecution
of the siege as hopeless.

But Athens had made it a maxim never to let difficulty or

disaster drive her back from any enterprise once undertaken, so
long as she possessed the means of making any effort, however
desperate, for its accomplishment. With indomitable pertinacity
she now decreed, instead of recalling her first armament from
before Syracuse, to send out a second, though her enemies near
home had now renewed open warfare against her, and by occupying a
permanent fortification in her territory, had severely distressed
her population, and were pressing her with almost all the
hardships of an actual siege. She still was mistress of the sea,
and she sent forth another fleet of seventy galleys, and another
army, which seemed to drain the very last reserves of her
military population, to try if Syracuse could not yet be won, and
the honour of the Athenian arms be preserved from the stigma of a
retreat. Hers was, indeed, a spirit that might be broken, but
never would bend. At the head of this second expedition she
wisely placed her best general Demosthenes, one of the most
distinguished officers whom the long Peloponnesian war had
produced, and who, if he had originally held the Sicilian
command, would soon have brought Syracuse to submission.

The fame of Demosthenes the general, has been dimmed by the

superior lustre of his great countryman, Demosthenes the orator.
When the name of Demosthenes is mentioned, it is the latter alone
that is thought of. The soldier has found no biographer. Yet
out of the long list of the great men of the Athenian republic,
there are few that deserve to stand higher than this brave,
though finally unsuccessful, leader of her fleets and armies in
the first half of the Peloponnesian war. In his first campaign
in AEtolia he had shown some of the rashness of youth, and had
received a lesson of caution, by which he profited throughout the
rest of his career, but without losing any of his natural energy
in enterprise or in execution. He had performed the eminent
service of rescuing Naupactus from a powerful hostile armament in
the seventh year of the war; he had then, at the request of the
Acarnanian republics, taken on himself the office of commander-
in-chief of all their forces, and at their head he had gained
some important advantages over the enemies of Athens in Western
Greece. His most celebrated exploits had been the occupation of
Pylos on the Messenian coast, the successful defence of that
place against the fleet and armies of Lacedaemon, and the
subsequent capture of the Spartan forces on the isle of
Sphacteria; which was the severest blow dealt to Sparta
throughout the war, and which had mainly caused her to humble
herself to make the truce with Athens. Demosthenes was as
honourably unknown in the war of party politics at Athens, as he
was eminent in the war against the foreign enemy. We read of no
intrigues of his on either the aristocratic or democratic side.
He was neither in the interest of Nicias, nor of Cleon. His
private character was free from any of the stains which polluted
that of Alcibiades. On all these points the silence of the comic
dramatist is decisive evidence in his favour. He had also the
moral courage, not always combined with physical of seeking to do
his duty to his country, irrespectively of any odium that he
himself might incur, and unhampered by any petty jealousy of
those who were associated with him in command. There are few men
named in ancient history, of whom posterity would gladly know
more, or whom we sympathise with more deeply in the calamities
that befel them, than Demosthenes, the son of Alcisthenes, who,
in the spring of the year 413 B.C., left Piraeus at the head of
the second Athenian expedition against Sicily.

His arrival was critically timed; for Gylippus had encouraged the
Syracusans to attack the Athenians under Nicias by sea as well as
by land, and by an able stratagem of Ariston, one of the admirals
of the Corinthian auxiliary squadron, the Syracusans and their
confederates had inflicted on the fleet of Nicias the first
defeat that the Athenian navy had ever sustained from a
numerically inferior foe. Gylippus was preparing to follow up
his advantage by fresh attacks on the Athenians on both elements,
when the arrival of Demosthenes completely changed the aspect of
affairs, and restored the superiority to the invaders. With
seventy-three war-galleys in the highest state of efficiency, and
brilliantly equipped, with a force of five thousand picked men of
the regular infantry of Athens and her allies, and a still larger
number of bowmen, javelin-men, and slingers on board, Demosthenes
rowed round the great harbour with loud cheers and martial music,
as if in defiance of the Syracusans and their confederates. His
arrival had indeed changed their newly-born hopes into the
deepest consternation. The resources of Athens seemed
inexhaustible, and resistance to her hopeless. They had been
told that she was reduced to the last extremities, and that her
territory was occupied by an enemy; and yet, here they saw her,
as if in prodigality of power, sending forth, to make foreign
conquests, a second armament, not inferior to that with which
Nicias had first landed on the Sicilian shores.

With the intuitive decision of a great commander, Demosthenes at

once saw that the possession of Epipolae was the key to the
possession of Syracuse, and he resolved to make a prompt and
vigorous attempt to recover that position, while his force was
unimpaired, and the consternation which its arrival had produced
among the besieged remained unabated. The Syracusans and their
allies had run out an outwork along Epipolae from the city walls,
intersecting the fortified lines of circumvallation which Nicias
had commenced, but from which they had been driven by Gylippus.
Could Demosthenes succeed in storming this outwork, and in re-
establishing the Athenian troops on the high ground, he might
fairly hope to be able to resume the circumvallation of the city,
and become the conqueror of Syracuse: for, when once the
besiegers' lines were completed, the number of the troops with
which Gylippus had garrisoned the place would only tend to
exhaust the stores of provisions, and accelerate its downfall.

An easily-repelled attack was first made on the outwork in the

day-time, probably more with the view of blinding the besieged to
the nature of the main operations than with any expectation of
succeeding in an open assault, with every disadvantage of the
ground to contend against. But, when the darkness had set in,
Demosthenes formed his men in columns, each soldier taking with
him five days' provisions, and the engineers and workmen of the
camp following the troops with their tools, and all portable
implements of fortification, so as at once to secure any
advantage of ground that the army might gain. Thus equipped and
prepared, he led his men along by the foot of the southern flank
of Epipolae, in a direction towards the interior of the island,
till he came immediately below the narrow ridge that forms the
extremity of the high ground looking westward. He then wheeled
his vanguard to the right, sent them rapidly up the paths that
wind along the face of the cliff, and succeeded in completely
surprising the Syracusan outposts, and in placing his troops
fairly on the extreme summit of the all-important Epipolae.
Thence the Athenians marched eagerly down the slope towards the
town, routing some Syracusan detachments that were quartered in
their way, and vigorously assailing the unprotected part of the
outwork. All at first favoured them. The outwork was abandoned
by its garrison, and the Athenian engineers began to dismantle
it. In vain Gylippus brought up fresh troops to check the
assault: the Athenians broke and drove them back, and continued
to press hotly forward, in the full confidence of victory. But,
amid the general consternation of the Syracusans and their
confederates, one body of infantry stood firm. This was a
brigade of their Boeotian allies, which was posted low down the
slope of Epipolae, outside the city walls. Coolly and steadily
the Boeotian infantry formed their line, and, undismayed by the
current of flight around them, advanced against the advancing
Athenians. This was the crisis of the battle. But the Athenian
van was disorganized by its own previous successes; and, yielding
to the unexpected charge thus made on it by troops in perfect
order, and of the most obstinate courage, it was driven back in
confusion upon the other divisions of the army that still
continued to press forward. When once the tide was thus turned,
the Syracusans passed rapidly from the extreme of panic to the
extreme of vengeful daring, and with all their forces they now
fiercely assailed the embarrassed and receding Athenians. In
vain did the officers of the latter strive to re-form their line.
Amid the din and the shouting of the fight, and the confusion
inseparable upon a night engagement, especially one where many
thousand combatants were pent and whirled together in a narrow
and uneven area, the necessary manoeuvres were impracticable; and
though many companies still fought on desperately, wherever the
moonlight showed them the semblance of a foe, [THUC. vii. 44.
Compare Tacitus's description of the night engagement in the
civil war between Vespasian and Vitellius: "Neutro inclinaverat
fortuna, donec adulta nocte, LUNA OSTENDERET ACIES, FALERESQUE."
--Hist. Lib. iii. sec. 23.] they fought without concert or
subordination; and not unfrequently, amid the deadly chaos,
Athenian troops assailed each other. Keeping their ranks close,
the Syracusans and their allies pressed on against the
disorganized masses of the besiegers; and at length drove them,
with heavy slaughter, over the cliffs, which, scarce an hour
before, they had scaled full of hope, and apparently certain of
success.

This defeat was decisive of the event of the siege. The

Athenians afterwards struggled only to protect themselves from
the vengeance which the Syracusans sought to wreak in the
complete destruction of their invaders. Never, however, was
vengeance more complete and terrible. A series of sea-fights
followed, in which the Athenian galleys were utterly destroyed or
captured. The mariners and soldiers who escaped death in
disastrous engagements, and in a vain: attempt to force a
retreat into the interior of the island, became prisoners of war.
Nicias and Demosthenes were put to death in cold blood; and their
men either perished miserably in the Syracusan dungeons, or were
sold into slavery to the very persons whom, in their pride of
power, they had crossed the seas to enslave.

All danger from Athens to the independent nations of the West was
now for ever at an end. She, indeed, continued to struggle
against her combined enemies and revolted allies with
unparalleled gallantry; and many more years of varying warfare
passed away before she surrendered to their arms. But no success
in subsequent conquests could ever have restored her to the pre-
eminence in enterprise, resources, and maritime skill which she
had acquired before her fatal reverses in Sicily. Nor among the
rival Greek republics, whom her own rashness aided to crush her,
was there any capable of reorganizing her empire, or resuming her
schemes of conquest. The dominion of Western Europe was left for
Rome and Carthage to dispute two centuries later, in conflicts
still more terrible, and with even higher displays of military
daring and genius, than Athens had witnessed either in her rise,
her meridian, or her fall.

SYNOPSIS OF THE EVENTS BETWEEN THE DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS AT

SYRACUSE, AND THE BATTLE OF ARBELA.

412 B.C. Many of the subject allies of Athens revolt from her,
on her disasters before Syracuse being known; the seat of war is
transferred to the Hellespont and eastern side of the AEgean.

410. The Carthaginians attempt to make conquests in Sicily.

407. Cyrus the Younger is sent by the king of Persia to take the
government of all the maritime parts of Asia Minor, and with
orders to help the Lacedaemonian fleet against the Athenian.
406. Agrigentum taken by the Carthaginians.

405. The last Athenian fleet destroyed by Lysander at

AEgospotamos. Athens closely besieged. Rise of the power of
Dionysius at Syracuse.

404. Athens surrenders. End of the Peloponnesian war. The

ascendancy of Sparta complete throughout Greece.

403. Thrasybulus, aided by the Thebans and with the connivance

of one of the Spartan kings, liberates Athens from the Thirty
Tyrants, and restores the democracy.

401. Cyrus the Younger commences his expedition into Upper Asia
to dethrone his brother Artaxerxes Mnemon. He takes with him an
auxiliary force of ten thousand Greeks. He in killed in battle
at Cunaxa; and the ten thousand, led by Xenophon, effect their
retreat in spite of the Persian armies and the natural obstacles
of their march.

399. In this, and the five following years, the Lacedaemonians

under Agesilaus and other commanders, carry on war against the
Persian satraps in Asia Minor.

396. Syracuse is besieged by the Carthaginians, and successfully

defended by Dionysius.

394. Rome makes her first great stride in the career of conquest
by the capture of Veii.

393. The Athenian admiral Conon, in conjunction with the Persian

satrap Pharnabazus, defeats the Lacedaemonian fleet off Cnidus,
and restores the fortifications of Athens. Several of the former
allies of Sparta in Greece carry on hostilities against her.

388. The nations of Northern Europe now first appear in

authentic history. The Gauls overrun great part of Italy, and
burn Rome. Rome recovers from the blow, but her old enemies, the
AEquians and Volscians, are left completely crushed by the Gallic
invaders.

387. The peace of Antalcidas is concluded among the Greeks by

the mediation, and under the sanction, of the Persian king.

378 to 361. Fresh wars in Greece. Epaminondas raises Thebes to

be the leading state of Greece, and the supremacy of Sparta is
destroyed at the battle of Leuctra. Epaminondas is killed in
gaining the victory of Mantinea, and the power of Thebes falls
with him. The Athenians attempt a balancing system between
Sparta and Thebes.

359. Philip becomes king of Macedon.

357. The Social War breaks out in Greece, and lasts three years.
Its result checks the attempt of Athens to regain her old
maritime empire.

356. Alexander the Great is born.

343. Rome begins her wars with the Samnites: they extend over a
period of fifty years. The result of this obstinate contest is
to secure for her the dominion of Italy.

340. Fresh attempts of the Carthaginians upon Syracuse.

Timoleon defeats them with great slaughter.

338. Philip defeats the confederate armies of Athens and Thebes

at Chaeronea, and the Macedonian supremacy over Greece is firmly
established.

336. Philip is assassinated, and Alexander the Great becomes

king of Macedon. He gains several victories over the northern
barbarians who had attacked Macedonia, and destroys Thebes,
which, in conjunction with Athens, had taken up arms against the
Macedonians.

334. Alexander passes the Hellespont.

CHAPTER III.

THE BATTLE OF ARBELA, B.C. 331.

"Alexander deserves the glory which he has enjoyed for so many

centuries and among all nations; but what if he had been beaten
at Arbela having the Euphrates, the Tigris, and the deserts in
his rear, without any strong places of refuge, nine hundred
leagues from Macedonia?"--NAPOLEON.

Asia beheld with astonishment and awe the uninterrupted progress

of a hero, the sweep of whose conquests was as wide and rapid as
that of her own barbaric kings, or the Scythian or Chaldaean
hordes; but, far unlike the transient whirlwinds of Asiatic
warfare, the advance of the Macedonian leader was no less
deliberate than rapid; at every step the Greek power took root,
and the language and the civilization of Greece were planted from
the shores of the AEgean to the banks of the Indus, from the
Caspian and the great Hyrcanian plain to the cataracts of the
Nile; to exist actually for nearly a thousand years, and in their
effects to endure for ever."--ARNOLD.

A long and not uninstructive list might be made out of

illustrious men, whose characters have been vindicated during
recent times from aspersions which for centuries had been thrown
on them. The spirit of modern inquiry, and the tendency of
modern scholarship, both of which are often said to be solely
negative and destructive, have, in truth, restored to splendour,
and almost created anew, far more than they have assailed with
censure, or dismissed from consideration as unreal. The truth of
many a brilliant narrative of brilliant exploits has of late
years been triumphantly demonstrated; and the shallowness of the
sceptical scoffs with which little minds have carped at the great
minds of antiquity, has been in many instances decisively
exposed. The laws, the politics, and the lines of action adopted
or recommended by eminent men and powerful nations have been
examined with keener investigation, and considered with more
comprehensive judgment, than formerly were brought to bear on
these subjects. The result has been at least as often favourable
as unfavourable to the persons and the states so scrutinized; and
many an oft-repeated slander against both measures and men has
thus been silenced, we may hope, for ever.

The veracity of Herodotus, the pure patriotism of Pericles, of

Demosthenes, and of the Gracchi, the wisdom of Cleisthenes and of
Licinius as constitutional reformers, may be mentioned as facts
which recent writers have cleared from unjust suspicion and
censure. And it might be easily shown that the defensive
tendency which distinguishes the present and recent best
historians of Germany, France, and England, has been equally
manifested in the spirit in which they have treated the heroes of
thought and the heroes of action who lived during what we term
the Middle Ages and whom it was so long the fashion to sneer at
or neglect.

The name of the victor of Arbela has led to these reflections;

for, although the rapidity and extent of Alexander's conquests
have through all ages challenged admiration and amazement, the
grandeur of genius which he displayed in his schemes of commerce,
civilization, and of comprehensive union and unity amongst
nations, has, until lately, been comparatively unhonoured. This
long-continued depreciation was of early date. The ancient
rhetoricians--a class of babblers, a school for lies and scandal,
as Niebuhr justly termed them--chose among the stock themes for
their commonplaces, the character and exploits of Alexander.
They had their followers in every age; and until a very recent
period, all who wished to "point a moral or adorn a tale" about
unreasoning ambition, extravagant pride, and the formidable
frenzies of free will when leagued with free power, have never
failed to blazon forth the so-called madman of Macedonia as one
of the most glaring examples. Without doubt, many of these
writers adopted with implicit credence traditional ideas and
supposed, with uninquiring philanthropy, that in blackening
Alexander they were doing humanity good service. But also,
without doubt, many of his assailants, like those of other great
men, have been mainly instigated by "that strongest of all
antipathies, the antipathy of a second-rate mind to a first-rate
one," [De Stael.] and by the envy which talent too often bears
to genius.

Arrian, who wrote his history of Alexander when Hadrian was

emperor of the Roman world, and when the spirit of declamation
and dogmatism was at its full height, but who was himself, unlike
the dreaming pedants of the schools, a statesman and a soldier of
practical and proved ability, well rebuked the malevolent
aspersions which he heard continually thrown upon the memory of
the great conqueror of the East. He truly says, "Let the man who
speaks evil of Alexander not merely bring forward those passages
of Alexander's life which were really evil, but let him collect
and review all the actions of Alexander, and then let him
thoroughly consider first who and what manner of man he himself
is, and what has been his own career; and then let him consider
who and what manner of man Alexander was, and to what an eminence
of human grandeur HE arrived. Let him consider that Alexander
was a king, and the undisputed lord of the two continents; and
that his name is renowned throughout the whole earth. Let the
evil-speaker against Alexander bear all this in mind, and then
let him reflect on his own insignificance, the pettiness of his
own circumstances and affairs, and the blunders that he makes
about these, paltry and trifling as they are. Let him then ask
himself whether he is a fit person to censure and revile such a
man as Alexander. I believe that there was in his time no nation
of men, no city, nay, no single individual, with whom Alexander's
name had not become a familiar word. I therefore hold that such
a man, who was like no ordinary mortal was not born into the
world without some special providence." [Arrian, lib. vii. AD
FINEM.]

And one of the most distinguished soldiers and writers of our own
nation, Sir Walter Raleigh, though he failed to estimate justly
the full merits of Alexander, has expressed his sense of the
grandeur of the part played in the world by "The Great Emathian
Conqueror" in language that well deserves quotation:--"So much
hath the spirit of some one man excelled as it hath undertaken
and effected the alteration of the greatest states and
commonwealths, the erection of monarchies, the conquest of
kingdoms and empires, guided handfuls of men against multitudes
of equal bodily strength, contrived victories beyond all hope and
discourse of reason, converted the fearful passions of his own
followers into magnanimity, and the valour of his enemies into
cowardice; such spirits have been stirred up in sundry ages of
the world, and in divers parts thereof, to erect and cast down
again, to establish and to destroy, and to bring all things,
persons, and states to the same certain ends, which the infinite
spirit of the UNIVERSAL, piercing, moving, and governing all
things, hath ordained. Certainly, the things that this king did
were marvellous, and would hardly have been undertaken by any one
else: and though his father had determined to have invaded the
Lesser Asia, it is like that he would have contented himself with
some part thereof, and not have discovered the river of Indus, as
this man did." ["The Historie of the World," by Sir Walter
Raleigh, Knight, p. 628.]

A higher authority than either Arrian or Raleigh may now be

referred to by those who wish to know the real merit of Alexander
as a general, and how far the commonplace assertions are true,
that his successes were the mere results of fortunate rashness
and unreasoning pugnacity, Napoleon selected Alexander as one of
the seven greatest generals whose noble deeds history has handed
down to us, and from the study of whose campaigns the principles
of war are to be learned. The critique of the greatest conqueror
of modern times on the military career of the great conqueror of
the old world, is no less graphic than true.

"Alexander crossed the Dardanelles 334 B.C. with an army of about

forty thousand men, of which one-eighth was cavalry; he forced
the passage of the Granicus in opposition to an army under
Memnon, the Greek, who commanded for Darius on the coast of Asia,
and he spent the whole of the year 333 in establishing his power
in Asia Minor. He was seconded by the Greek colonists, who dwelt
on the borders of the Black Sea, and on the Mediterranean, and in
Smyrna, Ephesus, Tarsus, Miletus, &c. The kings of Persia left
their provinces and towns to be governed according to their own
particular laws. Their empire was a union of confederated
states, and did not form one nation; this facilitated its
conquest. As Alexander only wished for the throne of the
monarch, he easily effected the change, by respecting the
customs, manners, and laws of the people, who experienced no
change in their condition.

"In the year 332, he met with Darius at the head of sixty
thousand men, who had taken up a position near Tarsus, on the
banks of the Issus, in the province of Cilicia. He defeated him,
entered Syria, took Damascus, which contained all the riches of
the Great King, and laid siege to Tyre. This superb metropolis
of the commerce of the world detained him nine months. He took
Gaza after a siege of two months; crossed the Desert in seven
days; entered Pelusium and Memphis, and founded Alexandria. In
less than two years, after two battles and four or five sieges,
the coasts of the Black Sea from Phasis to Byzantium, those of
the Mediterranean as far as Alexandria, all Asia Minor, Syria,
and Egypt, had submitted to his arms.

"In 331, he repassed the Desert, encamped in Tyre, recrossed

Syria, entered Damascus, passed the Euphrates and Tigris, and
defeated Darius on the field of Arbela, when he was at the head
of a still stronger army than that which he commanded on the
Issus, and Babylon opened her gates to him. In 330, he overran
Susa, and took that city, Persepolis, and Pasargada, which
contained the tomb of Cyrus. In 329, he directed his course
northward, entered Ecbatana, and extended his conquests to the
coasts of the Caspian, punished Bessus, the cowardly assassin of
Darius, penetrated into Scythia, and subdued the Scythians. In
328, he forced the passage of the Oxus, received sixteen thousand
recruits from Macedonia, and reduced the neighbouring people to
subjection. In 327, he crossed the Indus, vanquished Poros in a
pitched battle, took him prisoner, and treated him as a king. He
contemplated passing the Ganges, but his army refused. He sailed
down the Indus, in the year 326, with eight hundred vessels;
having arrived at the ocean, be sent Nearchus with a fleet to run
along the coasts of the Indian Ocean and the Persian Gulf, as far
as the mouth of the Euphrates. In 325, he took sixty days in
crossing from Gedrosia, entered Keramania, returned to Pasargada,
Persepolis, and Susa, and married Statira, the daughter of
Darius. In 324, he marched once more to the north, passed
Ecbatana, and terminated his career at Babylon." [See Count
Montolon's Memoirs of Napoleon.]

The enduring importance of Alexander's conquests is to be

estimated not by the duration of his own life and empire, or even
by the duration of the kingdoms which his generals after his
death formed out of the fragments of that mighty dominion. In
every region of the world that he traversed, Alexander planted
Greek settlements, and founded cities, in the populations of
which the Greek element at once asserted its predominance. Among
his successors, the Seleucids and the Ptolemies imitated their
great captain in blending schemes of civilization, of commercial
intercourse, and of literary and scientific research with all
their enterprises of military aggrandizement, and with all their
systems of civil administration. Such was the ascendancy of the
Greek genius, so wonderfully comprehensive and assimilating was
the cultivation which it introduced, that, within thirty years
after Alexander crossed the Hellespont, the language, the
literature, and the arts of Hellas, enforced and promoted by the
arms of semi-Hellenic Macedon, predominated in every country from
the shores of that sea to the Indian waters. Even sullen Egypt
acknowledged the intellectual supremacy of Greece; and the
language of Pericles and Plato became the language of the
statesmen and the sages who dwelt in the mysterious land of the
Pyramids and the Sphinx. It is not to be supposed that this
victory of the Greek tongue was so complete as to exterminate the
Coptic, the Syrian, the Armenian, the Persian, or the other
native languages of the numerous nations and tribes between the
AEgean, the Iaxertes, the Indus, and the Nile; they survived as
provincial dialects. Each probably was in use as the vulgar
tongue of its own district. But every person with the slightest
pretence to education spoke Greek. Greek was universally the
State language, and the exclusive language of all literature and
science, It formed also for the merchant, the trader, and the
traveller, as well as for the courtier, the government official,
and the soldier, the organ of intercommunication among the
myriads of mankind inhabiting these large portions of the Old
World. [See Arnold, Hist. Rome, ii. 406.] Throughout Asia
Minor, Syria, and Egypt, the Hellenic character that was thus
imparted, remained in full vigour down to the time of the
Mahometan conquests. The infinite value of this to humanity in
the highest and holiest point of view has often been pointed out;
and the workings of the finger of Providence have been gratefully
recognised by those who have observed how the early growth and
progress of Christianity were aided by that diffusion of the
Greek language and civilization throughout Asia Minor, Syria, and
Egypt which had been caused by the Macedonian conquest of the
East.

In Upper Asia, beyond the Euphrates, the direct and material

influence of Greek ascendancy was more short-lived. Yet, during
the existence of the Hellenic kingdoms in these regions,
especially of the Greek kingdom of Bactria, the modern Bokhara,
very important effects were produced on the intellectual
tendencies and tastes of the inhabitants of those countries and
of the adjacent ones, by the animating contact of the Grecian
spirit. Much of Hindoo science and philosophy, much of the
literature of the later Persian kingdom of the Arsacidae, either
originated from, or was largely modified by, Grecian influences.
So, also, the learning and science of the Arabians were in a far
less degree the result of original invention and genius, than the
reproduction, in an altered form, of the Greek philosophy and the
Greek lore, acquired by the Saracenic conquerors together with
their acquisition of the provinces which Alexander had subjugated
nearly a thousand years before the armed disciples of Mahomet
commenced their career in the East. It is well known that
Western Europe in the Middle ages drew its philosophy, its arts,
and its science, principally from Arabian teachers. And thus we
see how the intellectual influence of ancient Greece, poured on
the Eastern world by Alexander's victories, and then brought back
to bear on Mediaeval Europe by the spread of the Saracenic
powers, has exerted its action on the elements of modern
civilization by this powerful though indirect channel as well as
by the more obvious effects of the remnants of classic
civilization which survived in Italy, Gaul, Britain, and Spain,
after the irruption of the Germanic nations. [See Humboldt's
Cosmos.]

These considerations invest the Macedonian triumphs in the East

with never-dying interest, such as the most showy and sanguinary
successes of mere "low ambition and the pride of kings," however
they may dazzle for a moment, can never retain with posterity.
Whether the old Persian empire, which Cyrus founded, could have
survived much longer than it did, even if Darius had been
victorious at Arbela, may safely be disputed. That ancient
dominion, like the Turkish at the present time, laboured under
every cause of decay and dissolution. The satraps, like the
modern pachas, continually rebelled against the central power,
and Egypt, in particular, was almost always in a state of
insurrection against its nominal sovereign. There was no longer
any effective central control, or any internal principle of unity
fused through the huge mass of the empire, and binding it
together. Persia was evidently about to fall; but, had it not
been for Alexander's invasion of Asia, she would most probably
have fallen beneath some other Oriental power, as Media and
Babylon had formerly fallen before herself, and as, in after
times, the Parthian supremacy gave way to the revived ascendancy
of Persia in the East, under the sceptres of the Arsacidae. A
revolution that merely substituted one Eastern power for another
would have been utterly barren and unprofitable to mankind.

Alexander's victory at Arbela not only overthrew an Oriental

dynasty, but established European rulers in its stead. It broke
the monotony, of the Eastern world by the impression of Western
energy and superior civilization; even as England's present
mission is to break up the mental and moral stagnation of India
and Cathay, by pouring upon and through them the impulsive
current of Anglo-Saxon commerce and conquest.

Arbela, the city which has furnished its name to the decisive
battle that gave Asia to Alexander, lies more than twenty miles
from the actual scene of conflict. The little village then named
Gaugamela is close to the spot where the armies met, but has
ceded the honour of naming the battle to its more euphonious
neighbour. Gaugamela is situate in one of the wide plains that
lie between the Tigris and the mountains of Kurdistan. A few
undulating hillocks diversify the surface of this sandy track;
but the ground is generally level, and admirably qualified for
the evolutions of cavalry, and also calculated to give the larger
of two armies the full advantage of numerical superiority. The
Persian King (who before he came to the throne, had proved his
personal valour as a soldier, and his skill as a general) had
wisely selected this region for the third and decisive encounter
between his forces and the invaders. The previous defeats of his
troops, however severe they had been, were not looked on as
irreparable, The Granicus had been fought by his generals rashly
and without mutual concert. And, though Darius himself had
commanded and been beaten at Issus, that defeat might be
attributed to the disadvantageous nature of the ground; where,
cooped up between the mountains, the river, and the sea, the
numbers of the Persians confused and clogged alike the general's
skill and the soldiers' prowess, so that their very strength
became their weakness. Here, on the broad plains of Kurdistan,
there was scope for Asia's largest host to array its lines, to
wheel, to skirmish, to condense or expand its squadrons, to
manoeuvre, and to charge at will. Should Alexander and his
scanty band dare to plunge into that living sea of war, their
destruction seemed inevitable.

Darius felt, however, the critical nature to himself as well as

to his adversary of the coming encounter. He could not hope to
retrieve the consequences of a third overthrow. The great cities
of Mesopotamia and Upper Asia, the central provinces of the
Persian empire, were certain to be at the mercy of the victor.
Darius knew also the Asiatic character well enough to be aware
how it yields to the prestige of success, and the apparent career
of destiny. He felt that the diadem was now either to be firmly
replaced on his own brow, or to be irrevocably transferred to the
head of his European conqueror. He, therefore, during the long
interval left him after the battle of Issus, while Alexander was
subjugating Syria and Egypt, assiduously busied himself in
selecting the best troops which his vast empire supplied, and in
training his varied forces to act together with some uniformity
of discipline and system.

The hardy mountaineers of Affghanistan, Bokhara, Khiva, and

Thibet, were then, as at present, far different from the
generality of Asiatics in warlike spirit and endurance. From
these districts Darius collected large bodies of admirable
infantry; and the countries of the modern Kurds and Turkomans
supplied, as they do now, squadrons of horsemen, strong, skilful,
bold, and trained to a life of constant activity and warfare. It
is not uninteresting to notice that the ancestors of our own late
enemies, the Sikhs, served as allies of Darius against the
Macedonians. They are spoken of in Arrian as Indians who dwelt
near Bactria. They were attached to the troops of that satrapy,
and their cavalry was one of the most formidable forces in the
whole Persian army.

Besides these picked troops, contingents also came in from the

numerous other provinces that yet obeyed the Great King.
Altogether, the horse are said to have been forty thousand, the
scythe-bearing chariots two hundred, and the armed elephants
fifteen in number. The amount of the infantry is uncertain; but
the knowledge which both ancient and modern times supply of the
usual character of Oriental armies, and of their populations of
camp-followers, may warrant us in believing that many myriads
were prepared to fight, or to encumber those who fought, for the
last Darius.

The position of the Persian king near Mesopotamia was chosen with
great military skill. It was certain that Alexander on his
return from Egypt must march northward along the Syrian coast,
before he attacked the central provinces of the Persian empire.
A direct eastward march from the lower part of Palestine across
the great Syrian Desert was then, as now, utterly impracticable.
Marching eastward from Syria, Alexander would, on crossing the
Euphrates, arrive at the vast Mesopotamian plains. The wealthy
capitals of the empire, Babylon, Susa, and Persepolis, would then
lie to his south; and if he marched down through Mesopotamia to
attack them, Darius might reasonably hope to follow the
Macedonians with his immense force of cavalry, and, without even
risking a pitched battle, to harass and finally overwhelm them.
We may remember that three centuries afterwards a Roman army
under Crassus was thus actually destroyed by the Oriental archers
and horsemen in these very plains; [See Mitford.] and that the
ancestors of the Parthians who thus vanquished the Roman legions,
served by thousands under King Darius. If, on the contrary,
Alexander should defer his march against Babylon, and first seek
an encounter with the Persian army, the country on each side of
the Tigris in this latitude was highly advantageous for such an
army as Darius commanded; and he had close in his rear the
mountainous districts of Northern Media, where he himself had in
early life been satrap, where he had acquired reputation as a
soldier and a general, and where he justly expected to find
loyalty to his person, and a safe refuge in case of defeat.
[Mitford's remarks on the strategy of Darius in his last campaign
are very just. After having been unduly admired as an historian,
Mitford is now unduly neglected. His partiality, and his
deficiency in scholarship, have been exposed sufficiently to make
him no longer a dangerous guide as to Greek polities; while the
clearness and brilliancy of his narrative, and the strong common
sense of his remarks (where his party prejudices do not
interfere) must always make his volumes valuable as well as
entertaining.]

His great antagonist came on across the Euphrates against him, at

the head of an army which Arrian, copying from the journals of
Macedonian officers, states to have consisted of forty thousand
foot, and seven thousand horse. In studying the campaigns of
Alexander, we possess the peculiar advantage of deriving our
information from two of Alexander's generals of division, who
bore an important part in all his enterprises. Aristobulus and
Ptolemy (who afterwards became king of Egypt) kept regular
journals of the military events which they witnessed; and these
journals were in the possession of Arrian, when he drew up his
history of Alexander's expedition. The high character of Arrian
for integrity makes us confident that he used them fairly, and
his comments on the occasional discrepancies between the two
Macedonian narratives prove that he used them sensibly. He
frequently quotes the very words of his authorities: and his
history thus acquires a charm such as very few ancient or modern
military narratives possess. The anecdotes and expressions which
he records we fairly believe to be genuine, and not to be the
coinage of a rhetorician, like those in Curtius. In fact, in
reading Arrian, we read General Aristobulus and General Ptolemy
on the campaigns of the Macedonians; and it is like reading
General Jomini or General Foy on the campaigns of the French.

The estimate which we find in Arrian of the strength of

Alexander's army, seems reasonable when we take into account both
the losses which he had sustained, and the reinforcements which
he had received since he left Europe. Indeed, to Englishmen, who
know with what mere handfuls of men our own generals have, at
Plassy, at Assaye, at Meeanee, and other Indian battles, routed
large hosts of Asiatics, the disparity of numbers that we read of
in the victories won by the Macedonians over the Persians
presents nothing incredible. The army which Alexander now led
was wholly composed of veteran troops in the highest possible
state of equipment and discipline, enthusiastically devoted to
their leader, and full of confidence in his military genius and
his victorious destiny.

The celebrated Macedonian phalanx formed the main strength of his

infantry. This force had been raised and organized by his father
Philip, who on his accession to the Macedonian throne needed a
numerous and quickly-formed army, and who, by lengthening the
spear of the ordinary Greek phalanx, and increasing the depth of
the files, brought the tactic of armed masses to the greatest
efficiency of which it was capable with such materials as he
possessed. [See Niebuhr's Hist. of Rome, iii. 488.] He formed
his men sixteen deep, and placed in their grasp the SARISSA, as
the Macedonian pike was called, which was four-and-twenty feet in
length, and when couched for action, reached eighteen feet in
front of the soldier: so that, as a space of about two feet was
allowed between the ranks, the spears of the five files behind
him projected in advance of each front-rank man. The phalangite
soldier was fully equipped in the defensive armour of the regular
Greek infantry. And thus the phalanx presented a ponderous and
bristling mass, which as long as its order was kept compact, was
sure to bear down all opposition. The defects of such an
organization are obvious, and were proved in after years, when
the Macedonians were opposed to the Roman legions. But it is
clear that, under Alexander, the phalanx was not the cumbrous
unwieldy body which it was at Cynoscephalae and Pydna. His men
were veterans; and he could obtain from them an accuracy of
movement and steadiness of evolution, such as probably the
recruits of his father would only have floundered in attempting,
and such as certainly were impracticable in the phalanx when
handled by his successors: especially as under them it ceased to
be a standing force, and became only a militia. [See Niebuhr.]
Under Alexander the phalanx consisted of an aggregate of
eighteen thousand men, who were divided into six brigades of
three thousand each. These were again subdivided into regiments
and companies; and the men were carefully trained to wheel, to
face about, to take more ground, or to close up, as the
emergencies of the battle required. Alexander also arrayed in
the intervals of the regiments of his phalangites, troops armed
in a different manner, which could prevent their line from being
pierced, and their companies taken in flank, when the nature of
the ground prevented a close formation; and which could be
withdrawn, when a favourable opportunity arrived for closing up
the phalanx or any of its brigades for a charge, or when it was
necessary to prepare to receive cavalry.

Besides the phalanx, Alexander had a considerable force of

infantry who were called shield-bearers: they were not so
heavily armed as the phalangites, or as was the case with the
Greek regular infantry in general; but they were equipped for
close fight, as well as for skirmishing, and were far superior to
the ordinary irregular troops of Greek warfare. They were about
six thousand strong. Besides these, he had several bodies of
Greek regular infantry; and he had archers, slingers, and
javelin-men, who fought also with broadsword and target. These
were principally supplied to him by the highlanders of Illyria
and Thracia. The main strength of his cavalry consisted in two
chosen corps of cuirassiers, one Macedonian, and one Thessalian
each of which was about fifteen hundred strong. They were
provided with long lances and heavy swords, and horse as well as
man was fully equipped with defensive armour. Other regiments of
regular cavalry were less heavily armed, and there were several
bodies of light horsemen, whom Alexander's conquests in Egypt and
Syria had enabled him to mount superbly.

A little before the end of August, Alexander crossed the

Euphrates at Thapsacus, a small corps of Persian cavalry under
Mazaeus retiring before him. Alexander was too prudent to march
down through the Mesopotamian deserts, and continued to advance
eastward with the intention of passing the Tigris, and then, if
he was unable to find Darius and bring him to action, of marching
southward on the left side of that river along the skirts of a
mountainous district where his men would suffer less from heat
and thirst, and where provisions would be more abundant.

Darius, finding that his adversary was not to be enticed into the
march through Mesopotamia against his capital, determined to
remain on the battle-ground which he had chosen on the left of
the Tigris; where, if his enemy met a defeat or a check, the
destruction of the invaders would be certain with two such rivers
as the Euphrates and the Tigris in their rear. The Persian king
availed himself to the utmost of every advantage in his power.
He caused a large space of ground to be carefully levelled for
the operation of his scythe-armed chariots; and he deposited his
military stores in the strong town of Arbela, about twenty miles
in his rear. The rhetoricians of after ages have loved to
describe Darius Codomannus as a second Xerxes in ostentation and
imbecility; but a fair examination of his generalship in this his
last campaign, shows that he was worthy of bearing the same name
as his great predecessor, the royal son of Hystaspes.

On learning that Darius was with a large army on the left of the
Tigris, Alexander hurried forward and crossed that river without
opposition. He was at first unable to procure any certain
intelligence of the precise position of the enemy, and after
giving his army a short interval of rest, he marched for four
days down the left bank of the river. A moralist may pause upon
the fact, that Alexander must in this march have passed within a
few miles of the remains of Nineveh, the great, city of the
primaeval conquerors of the human race. Neither the Macedonian
king nor any of his followers knew what those vast mounds had
once been. They had already become nameless masses of grass-
grown ruins; and it is only within the last few years that the
intellectual energy of one of our own countrymen has rescued
Nineveh from its long centuries of oblivion. [See Layard's
"Nineveh," and also Vaux's "Nineveh and Persepolis," p. 16.]

On the fourth day of Alexander's southward march, his advanced

guard reported that a body of the enemy's cavalry was in sight.
He instantly formed his army in order for battle, and directing
them to advance steadily, he rode forward at the head of some
squadrons of cavalry, and charged the Persian horse whom he found
before him. This was a mere reconnoitring party, and they broke
and fled immediately; but the Macedonians made some prisoners,
and from them Alexander found that Darius was posted only a few
miles off and learned the strength of the army that he had with
him. On receiving this news, Alexander halted, and gave his men
repose for four days, so that they should go into action fresh
and vigorous. He also fortified his camp, and deposited in it
all his military stores, and all his sick and disabled soldiers;
intending to advance upon the enemy with the serviceable part of
his army perfectly unencumbered. After this halt, he moved
forward, while it was yet dark, with the intention of reaching
the enemy, and attacking them at break of day. About half-way
between the camps there were some undulations of the ground,
which concealed the two armies from each other's view. But, on
Alexander arriving at their summit, he saw by the early light the
Persian host arrayed before him; and he probably also observed
traces of some engineering operation having been carried on along
part of the ground in front of them. Not knowing that these
marks had been caused by the Persians having levelled the ground
for the free use of their war-chariots, Alexander suspected that
hidden pitfalls had been prepared with a view of disordering the
approach of his cavalry. He summoned a council of war forthwith,
some of the officers were for attacking instantly at all hazards,
but the more prudent opinion of Parmenio prevailed, and it was
determined not to advance farther till the battle-ground had been
carefully surveyed.

Alexander halted his army on the heights; and taking with him
some light-armed infantry and some cavalry, he passed part of the
day in reconnoitring the enemy, and observing the nature of the
ground which he had to fight on. Darius wisely refrained from
moving from his position to attack the Macedonians on eminences
which they occupied, and the two armies remained until night
without molesting each other. On Alexander's return to his head-
quarters, he summoned his generals and superior officers
together, and telling them that he well knew that THEIR zeal
wanted no exhortation, he besought them to do their utmost in
encouraging and instructing those whom each commanded, to do
their best in the next day's battle. They were to remind them
that they were now not going to fight for a province, as they had
hitherto fought, but they were about to decide by their swords
the dominion of all Asia. Each officer ought to impress this
upon his subalterns and they should urge it on their men. Their
natural courage required no long words to excite its ardour: but
they should be reminded of the paramount importance of steadiness
in action. The silence in the ranks must be unbroken as long as
silence was proper; but when the time came for the charge, the
shout and the cheer must be full of terror for the foe. The
officers were to be alert in receiving and communicating orders;
and every one was to act as if he felt that the whole result of
the battle depended on his own single good conduct.

Having thus briefly instructed his generals, Alexander ordered

that the army should sup, and take their rest for the night.

Darkness had closed over the tents of the Macedonians, when

Alexander's veteran general, Parmenio, came to him, and proposed
that they should make a night attack on the Persians. The King
is said to have answered, that he scorned to such a victory, and
that Alexander must conquer openly and fairly. Arrian justly
remarks that Alexander's resolution was as wise as it was
spirited. Besides the confusion and uncertainty which are
inseparable from night engagements, the value of Alexander's
victory would have been impaired, if gained under circumstances
which might supply the enemy with any excuse for his defeat, and
encourage him to renew the contest. It was necessary for
Alexander not only to beat Darius, but to gain such a victory as
should leave his rival without apology for defeat, and without
hope of recovery.

The Persians, in fact, expected, and were prepared to meet a

night attack. Such was the apprehension that Darius entertained
of it, that he formed his troops at evening in order of battle,
and kept them under arms all night. The effect of this was, that
the morning found them jaded and dispirited, while it brought
their adversaries all fresh and vigorous against them.

The written order of battle which Darius himself caused to he

drawn up, fell into the hands of the Macedonians after the
engagement, and Aristobulus copied it into his journal. We thus
possess, through Arrian, unusually authentic information as to
the composition and arrangement of the Persian army. On the
extreme left were the Bactrian, Daan, and Arachosian cavalry.
Next to these Darius placed the troops from Persia proper, both
horse and foot. Then came the Susians, and next to these the
Cadusians. These forces made up the left wing. Darius's own
station was in the centre. This was composed of the Indians, the
Carians, the Mardian archers, and the division of Persians who
were distinguished by the golden apples that formed knobs of
their spears. Here also were stationed the body-guard of the
Persian nobility. Besides these, there were in the centre,
formed in deep order, the Uxian and Babylonian troops, and the
soldiers from the Red Sea. The brigade of Greek mercenaries,
whom Darius had in his service, and who were alone considered fit
to stand in the charge of the Macedonian phalanx, was drawn up on
either side of the royal chariot. The right wing was composed of
the Coelosyrians and Mesopotamians, the Medes, the Parthians, the
Sacians, the Tapurians, Hyrcanians, Albanians, and Sacesinae. In
advance of the line on the left wing were placed the Scythian
cavalry, with a thousand of the Bactrian horse, and a hundred
scythe-armed chariots. The elephants and fifty scythe-armed
chariots were ranged in front of the centre; and fifty more
chariots, with the Armenian and Cappadocian cavalry, were drawn
up in advance of the right wing.

Thus arrayed, the great host of King Darius passed the night,
that to many thousands of them was the last of their existence.
The morning of the first of October, two thousand one hundred and
eighty-two years ago, dawned slowly to their wearied watching,
and they could hear the note of the Macedonian trumpet sounding
to arms, and could see King Alexander's forces descend from their
tents on the heights, and form in order of battle on the plain.
[See Clinton's "Fasti Hellenici." The battle was fought eleven
days after an eclipse of the moon, which gives the means of
fixing the precise date.]

There was deep need of skill, as well as of valour, on

Alexander's side; and few battle-fields have witnessed more
consummate generalship than was now displayed by the Macedonian
king. There were no natural barriers by which he could protect
his flanks; and not only was he certain to be overlapped on
either wing by the vast lines of the Persian army, but there was
imminent risk of their circling round him and charging him in the
rear, while he advanced against their centre. He formed,
therefore, a second or reserve line, which was to wheel round, if
required, or to detach troops to either flank; as the enemy's
movements might necessitate: and thus, with their whole army
ready at any moment to be thrown into one vast hollow square, the
Macedonians advanced in two lines against the enemy, Alexander
himself leading on the right wing, and the renowned phalanx
forming the centre, while Parmenio commanded on the left.

Such was the general nature of the disposition which Alexander

made of his army. But we have in Arrian the details of the
position of each brigade and regiment; and as we know that these
details were taken from the journals of Macedonian generals, it
is interesting to examine them, and to read the names and
stations of King Alexander's generals and colonels in this the
greatest of his battles.

The eight troops of the royal horse-guards formed the right of

Alexander's line. Their captains were Cleitus (whose regiment
was on the extreme right, the post of peculiar danger), Graucias,
Ariston, Sopolis, Heracleides, Demetrias, Meleager, and
Hegelochus. Philotas was general of the whole division. Then
came the shield-bearing infantry: Nicanor was their general.
Then came the phalanx, in six brigades. Coenus's brigade was on
the right, and nearest to the shield-bearers; next to this stood
the brigade of Perdiccas, then Meleager's, then Polysperchon's;
and then the brigade of Amynias, but which was now commanded by
Simmias, as Amynias had been sent to Macedonia to levy recruits.
Then came the infantry of the left wing, under the command of
Craterus. Next to Craterus's infantry were placed the cavalry
regiments of the allies, with Eriguius for their general. The
Messalian cavalry, commanded by Philippus, were next, and held
the extreme left of the whole army. The whole left wing was
entrusted to the command of Parmenio, who had round his person
the Pharsalian troop of cavalry, which was the strongest and best
amid all the Thessalian horse-regiments.

The centre of the second line was occupied by a body of

phalangite infantry, formed of companies, which were drafted for
this purpose from each of the brigades of their phalanx. The
officers in command of this corps were ordered to be ready to
face about, if the enemy should succeed in gaining the rear of
the army. On the right of this reserve of infantry, in the
second line, and behind the royal horse-guards, Alexander placed
half the Agrian light-armed infantry under Attalus, and with them
Brison's body of Macedonian archers, and Cleander's regiment of
foot. He also placed in this part of his army Menidas's squadron
of cavalry, and Aretes's and Ariston's light horse. Menidas was
ordered to watch if the enemy's cavalry tried to turn the flank,
and if they did so, to charge them before they wheeled completely
round, and so take them in flank themselves. A similar force was
arranged on the left of the second line for the same purpose, The
Thracian infantry of Sitalces was placed there, and Coeranus's
regiment of the cavalry of the Greek allies, and Agathon's troops
of the Odrysian irregular horse. The extreme left of the second
line in this quarter was held by Andromachus's cavalry. A
division of Thracian infantry was left in guard of the camp. In
advance of the right wing and centre was scattered a number of
light-armed troops, of javelin-men and bowmen, with the intention
of warding off the charge of the armed chariots. [Kleber's
arrangement of his troops at the battle of Heliopolis, where,
with ten thousand Europeans, he had to encounter eighty thousand
Asiatics in an open plain, is worth comparing with Alexander's
tactics at Arbela. See Thiers's "Histoire du Consulat," &c. vol.
ii. livre v.]

Conspicuous by the brilliancy of his armour, and by the chosen

band of officers who were round his person, Alexander took his
own station, as his custom was, in the right wing, at the head of
his cavalry: and when all the arrangements for the battle were
complete, and his generals were fully instructed how to act in
each probable emergency, he began to lead his men towards the
enemy.

It was ever his custom to expose his life freely in battle, and
to emulate the personal prowess of his great ancestor, Achilles.
Perhaps in the bold enterprise of conquering Persia, it was
politic for Alexander to raise his army's daring to the utmost by
the example of his own heroic valour: and, in his subsequent
campaigns, the love of the excitement, of "the rapture of the
strife," may have made him, like Murat, continue from choice a
custom which he commenced from duty. But he never suffered the
ardour of the soldier to make him lose the coolness of the
general; and at Arbela, in particular, he showed that he could
act up to his favourite Homeric maxim.

Great reliance had been placed by the Persian king on the effects
of the scythe-bearing chariots. It was designed to launch these
against the Macedonian phalanx, and to follow them up by a heavy
charge of cavalry, which it was hoped would find the ranks of the
spearmen disordered by the rush of the chariots, and easily
destroy this most formidable part of Alexander's force. In
front, therefore, of the Persian centre, where Darius took his
station, and which it was supposed the phalanx would attack, the
ground had been carefully levelled and smoothed, so as to allow
the chariots to charge over it with their full sweep and speed.
As the Macedonian army approached the Persian, Alexander found
that the front of his whole line barely equalled the front of the
Persian centre, so that he was outflanked on his right by the
entire left; wing of the enemy, and by their entire right wing on
his left. His tactics were to assail some one point of the
hostile army, and gain a decisive advantage; while he refused, as
far as possible, the encounter along the rest of the line. He
therefore inclined his order of march to the right so as to
enable his right wing and centre to come into collision with the
enemy on as favourable terms as possible though the manoeuvre
might in some respects compromise his left.

The effect of this oblique movement was to bring the phalanx and
his own wing nearly beyond the limits of the ground which the
Persians had prepared for the operations of the chariots; and
Darius, fearing to lose the benefit of this arm against the most
important parts of the Macedonian force, ordered the Scythian and
Bactrian cavalry, who were drawn up on his extreme left, to
charge round upon Alexander's right wing, and check its further
lateral progress. Against these assailants Alexander sent from
his second line Menidas's cavalry. As these proved too few to
make head against the enemy, he ordered Ariston also from the
second line with his light horse, and Cleander with his foot, in
support of Menidas. The Bactrians and Scythians now began to
give way, but Darius reinforced them by the mass of Bactrian
cavalry from his main line, and an obstinate cavalry fight now
took place. The Bactrians and Scythians were numerous, and were
better armed than the horseman under Menidas and Ariston; and the
loss at first was heaviest on the Macedonian side. But still the
European cavalry stood the charge of the Asiatics, and at last,
by their superior discipline, and by acting in squadrons that
supported each other, instead of fighting in a confused mass like
the barbarians, the Macedonians broke their adversaries, and
drove them off the field. [The best explanation of this may be
found in Napoleon's account of the cavalry fights between the
French and the Mamelukes:--"Two Mamelukes were able to make head
against three Frenchmen, because they were better armed, better
mounted, and better trained; they had two pair of pistols, a
blunderbuss, a carbine, a helmet with a vizor, and a coat of
mail; they had several horses, and several attendants on foot.
One hundred cuirassiers, however were not afraid of one hundred
Mamelukes; three hundred could beat; an equal number, and one
thousand could easily put to the rout fifteen hundred, so great
is the influence of tactics, order, and evolutions! Leclerc and
Lasalle presented their men to the Mamelukes in several lines.
When the Arabs were on the point of overwhelming the first, the
second came to its assistance on the right and left; the
Mamelukes then halted and wheeled, in order to turn the wings of
this new line; this moment was always seized upon to charge them,
and they were uniformly broken."--MONTHOLON'S HISTORY OF THE
CAPTIVITY OF NAPOLEON, iv. 70.]

Darius, now directed the scythe-armed chariots to be driven

against Alexander's horse-guards and the phalanx; and these
formidable vehicles were accordingly sent rattling across the
plain, against the Macedonian line. When we remember the alarm
which the war-chariots of the Britons created among Caesar's
legions, we shall not be prone to deride this arm of ancient
warfare as always useless. The object of the chariots was to
create unsteadiness in the ranks against which they were driven,
and squadrons of cavalry followed close upon them, to profit by
such disorder. But the Asiatic chariots were rendered
ineffective at Arbela by the light-armed troops whom Alexander
had specially appointed for the service, and who, wounding the
horses and drivers with their missile weapons, and running
alongside so as to cut the traces or seize the reins, marred the
intended charge; and the few chariots that reached the phalanx
passed harmlessly through the intervals which the spearmen opened
for them, and were easily captured in the rear.

A mass of the Asiatic cavalry was now, for the second time,
collected against Alexander's extreme right, and moved round it,
with the view of gaining the flank of his army. At the critical
moment, Aretes, with his horsemen from Alexander's second line,
dashed on the Persian squadrons when their own flanks were
exposed by this evolution. While Alexander thus met and baffled
all the flanking attacks of the enemy with troops brought up from
his second line, he kept his own horse-guards and the rest of the
front line of his wing fresh, and ready to take advantage of the
first opportunity for striking a decisive blow. This soon came.
A large body of horse, who were posted on the Persian left wing
nearest to the centre, quitted their station, and rode off to
help their comrades in the cavalry fight that still was going on
at the extreme right of Alexander's wing against the detachments
from his second line. This made a huge gap in the Persian array,
and into this space Alexander instantly dashed with his guard;
and then pressing towards his left, he soon began to make havoc
in the left flank of the Persian centre. The shield-bearing
infantry now charged also among the reeling masses of the
Asiatics; and five of the brigades of the phalanx, with the
irresistible might of their sarissas, bore down the Greek
mercenaries of Darius, and dug their way through the Persian
centre. In the early part of the battle, Darius had showed skill
and energy; and he now for some time encouraged his men, by voice
and example, to keep firm. But the lances of Alexander's
cavalry, and the pikes of the phalanx now gleamed nearer and
nearer to him. His charioteer was struck down by a javelin at
his side; and at last Darius's nerve failed him; and, descending
from his chariot, he mounted on a fleet horse and galloped from
the plain, regardless of the state of the battle in other parts
of the field, where matters were going on much more favourably
for his cause, and where his presence might have done much
towards gaining a victory.

Alexander's operations with his right and centre had exposed his
left to an immensely preponderating force of the enemy. Parmenio
kept out of action as long as possible; but Mazaeus, who
commanded the Persian right wing, advanced against him,
completely outflanked him, and pressed him severely with
reiterated charges by superior numbers. Seeing the distress of
Parmenio's wing, Simmias, who commanded the sixth brigade of the
phalanx, which was next to the left wing, did not advance with
the other brigades in the great charge upon the Persian centre,
but kept back to cover Parmenio's troops on their right flank; as
otherwise they would have been completely surrounded and cut off
from the rest of the Macedonian army. By so doing, Simmias had
unavoidably opened a gap in the Macedonian left centre; and a
large column of Indian and Persian horse, from the Persian right
centre, had galloped forward through this interval, and right
through the troops of the Macedonian second line. Instead of
then wheeling round upon Sarmenio, or upon the rear of
Alexander's conquering wing, the Indian and Persian cavalry rode
straight on to the Macedonian camp, overpowered the Thracians who
were left in charge of it, and began to plunder. This was
stopped by the phalangite troops of the second line, who, after
the enemy's horsemen had rushed by them, faced about,
countermarched upon the camp, killed many of the Indians and
Persians in the act of plundering, and forced the rest to ride
off again. Just at this crisis, Alexander had been recalled from
his pursuit of Darius, by tidings of the distress of Parmenio,
and of his inability to bear up any longer against the hot
attacks of Mazaeus. Taking his horse-guards with him, Alexander
rode towards the part of the field where his left wing was
fighting; but on his way thither he encountered the Persian and
Indian cavalry, on their return from his camp.

These men now saw that their only chance of safety was to cut
their way through; and in one huge column they charged
desperately upon the Macedonians. There was here a close hand-
to-hand fight, which lasted some time, and sixty of the royal
horse-guards fell, and three generals, who fought close to
Alexander's side, were wounded. At length the Macedonian,
discipline and valour again prevailed, and a large number of the
Persian and Indian horsemen were cut down; some few only
succeeded in breaking through and riding away. Relieved of these
obstinate enemies, Alexander again formed his horse-guards, and
led them towards Parmenio; but by this time that general also was
victorious. Probably the news of Darius's flight had reached
Mazaeus, and had damped the ardour of the Persian right wing;
while the tidings of their comrades' success must have
proportionally encouraged the Macedonian forces under Parmenio.
His Thessalian cavalry particularly distinguished themselves by
their gallantry and persevering good conduct; and by the time
that Alexander had ridden up to Parmenio, the whole Persian army
was in full flight from the field.

It was of the deepest importance to Alexander to secure the

person of Darius, and he now urged on the pursuit. The river
Lycus was between the field of battle and the city of Arbela,
whither the fugitives directed their course, and the passage of
this river was even more destructive to the Persians than the
swords and spears of the Macedonians had been in the engagement.
[I purposely omit any statement of the loss in the battle. There
is a palpable error of the transcribers in the numbers which we
find in our present manuscripts of Arrian; and Curtius is of no
authority.] The narrow bridge was soon choked up by the flying
thousands who rushed towards it, and vast numbers of the Persians
threw themselves, or were hurried by others, into the rapid
stream, and perished in its waters. Darius had crossed it, and
had ridden on through Arbela without halting. Alexander reached
that city on the next day, and made himself master of all
Darius's treasure and stores; but the Persian king unfortunately
for himself, had fled too fast for his conqueror: he had only
escaped to perish by the treachery of his Bactrian satrap,
Bessus.

A few days after the battle Alexander entered Babylon, "the

oldest seat of earthly empire" then in existence, as its
acknowledged lord and master. There were yet some campaigns of
his brief and bright career to be accomplished. Central Asia was
yet to witness the march of his phalanx. He was yet to effect
that conquest of Affghanistan in which England since has failed.
His generalship, as well as his valour, were yet to be signalised
on the banks of the Hydaspes, and the field of Chillianwallah;
and he was yet to precede the Queen of England in annexing the
Punjaub to the dominions of an European sovereign. But the
crisis of his career was reached; the great object of his mission
was accomplished; and the ancient Persian empire, which once
menaced all the nations of the earth with subjection, was
irreparably crushed, when Alexander had won his crowning victory
at Arbela.

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS BETWEEN THE BATTLE OF ARBELA AND THE BATTLE OF

THE METAURUS.

B.C. 330. The Lacedaemonians endeavour to create a rising in

Greece against the Macedonian power; they are defeated by
Antipater, Alexander's viceroy; and their king, Agis, falls in
the battle.

330 to 327. Alexander's campaigns in Upper Asia. "Having

conquered Darius, Alexander pursued his way, encountering
difficulties which would have appalled almost any other general,
through Bactriana, and taking Bactra, or Zariaspa, (now Balkh),
the chief city of that province, where he spent the winter.
Crossing the Oxus, he advanced in the following spring to
Marakanda (Samarcand) to replace the loss of horses which he had
sustained in crossing the Caucasus, to obtain supplies from the
rich valley of Sogd (the Mahometan Paradise of Mader-al-Nahr),
and to enforce the submission of Transoxiana. The northern limit
of his march is probably represented by the modern Uskand, or
Aderkand, a village on the Iaxartes, near the end of the Ferganah
district. In Margiana he founded another Alexandria. Returning
from the north, he led on his army in the hope of conquering
India, till at length, marching in a line apparently nearly
parallel with the Kabul river, he arrived at the celebrated rock
Aornos, the position of which must have been on the right bank of
the Indus, at some distance from Attock; and it may perhaps be
represented by the modern Akora"--(VAUX.)

327, 326. Alexander marches through, Affghanistan to the

Punjaub. He defeats Porus. His troops refuse to march towards
the Ganges, and he commences the descent of the Indus. On his
march he attacks and subdues several Indian tribes, among others
the Malli; in the storming of whose capital (Mooltan), he is
severely wounded. He directs his admiral, Nearchus, to sail
round from the Indus to the Persian Gulf; and leads the army back
across Scinde and Beloochistan.

324. Alexander returns to Babylon. "In the tenth year after he

had crossed the Hellespont, Alexander, having won his vast
dominion, entered Babylon; and resting from his career in that
oldest seat of earthly empire, he steadily surveyed the mass of
various nations which owned his sovereignty, and revolved in his
mind the great work of breathing into this huge but inert body
the living spirit of Greek civilization. In the bloom of
youthful manhood, at the age of thirty-two, he paused from the
fiery speed of his earlier course; and for the first time gave
the nations an opportunity of offering their homage before his
throne. They came from all the extremities of the earth to
propitiate his anger, to celebrate his greatness, or to solicit
his protection. . . . History may allow us to think that
Alexander and a Roman ambassador did meet at Babylon; that the
greatest man of the ancient world saw and spoke with a citizen of
that great nation, which was destined to succeed him in his
appointed work, and to found a wider and still more enduring
empire. They met, too, in Babylon, almost beneath the shadow of
the temple of Bel, perhaps the earliest monument ever raised by
human pride and power, in a city stricken, as it were, by the
word of God's heaviest judgment, as the symbol of greatness apart
from and opposed to goodness."--(ARNOLD.)

323. Alexander dies at Babylon. On his death being known at

Greece, the Athenians, and others of the southern states, take up
arms to shake off the domination of Macedon. They are at first
successful; but the return of some of Alexander's veterans from
Asia enables Antipater to prevail over them.

317 to 289. Agathocles is tyrant of Syracuse; and carries on

repeated wars with the Carthaginians; in the course of which
(311) he invades Africa, and reduces the Carthaginians to great
distress.

306. After a long series of wars with each other, and after all
the heirs of Alexander had been murdered, his principal surviving
generals assume the title of king, each over the provinces which
he has occupied. The four chief among them were Antigonus,
Ptolemy, Lysimachus, and Seleucus. Antipater was now dead, but
his son Cassander succeeded to his power in Macedonia and Greece.

301. Seleucus and Lysimachus defeat Antigonus at Ipsus.

Antigonus is killed in the battle.

280. Seleucus, the last of Alexander's captains, is

assassinated. Of all Alexander's successors, Seleucus had formed
the most powerful empire. He had acquired all the provinces
between Phrygia and the Indus. He extended his dominion in India
beyond the limits reached by Alexander. Seleucus had some sparks
of his great master's genius in promoting civilization and
commerce, as well as in gaining victories. Under his successors,
the Seleucidae, this vast empire rapidly diminished; Bactria
became independent, and a separate dynasty of Greek kings ruled
there in the year 125, when it was overthrown by the Scythian
tribes. Parthia threw off its allegiance to the Seleucidae in
250 B.C., and the powerful Parthian kingdom, which afterwards
proved so formidable a foe to Rome, absorbed nearly all the
provinces west of the Euphrates, that had obeyed the first
Seleucus. Before the battle of Ipsus, Mithridates, a Persian
prince of the blood-royal of the Achaemenidae, had escaped to
Pontus, and founded there the kingdom of that name.

Besides the kingdom of Seleucus, which, when limited to Syria,

Palestine, and parts of Asia Minor, long survived; the most
important kingdom formed by a general of Alexander was that of
the Ptolemies in Egypt. The throne of Macedonia was long and
obstinately contended for by Cassander, Polysperchon, Lysimachus,
Pyrrhus, Antigonus, and others; but at last was secured by the
dynasty of Antigonus Gonatas. The old republics of southern
Greece suffered severely during these tumults, and the only
Greek states that showed any strength and spirit were the cities
of the Achaean league, the AEtolians, and the islanders of
Rhodes.
290. Rome had now thoroughly subdued the Samnites and the
Etruscans, and had gained numerous victories over the Cisalpine
Gauls. Wishing to confirm her dominion in Lower Italy, she
became entangled in a war with Pyrrhus, fourth king of Epirus,
who was called over by the Tarentines to aid them. Pyrrhus was
at first victorious, but in the year 275 was defeated by the
Roman legions in a pitched battle. He returned to Greece,
remarking, "Rome becomes mistress of all Italy from the Rubicon
to the Straits of Messina."

264. The first Punic war begins. Its primary cause was the
desire of both the Romans and the Carthaginians to possess
themselves of Sicily. The Romans form a fleet, and successfully
compete with the marine of Carthage. [There is at this present
moment [written in June, 1851] in the Great Exhibition at Hyde
Park a model of a piratical galley of Labuan, part of the mast of
which can be let down on an enemy, and form a bridge for
boarders. It is worth while to compare this with the account in
Polybius of the boarding bridges which the Roman admiral Dullius,
affixed to the masts of his galleys and by means of which he won
his great victory over the Carthaginian fleet.] During the
latter half of the war, the military genius of Hamilcar Barca
sustains the Carthaginian cause in Sicily. At the end of twenty-
four years, the Carthaginians sue for peace, though their
aggregate loss in ships and men had been less than that sustained
by the Romans since the beginning of the war. Sicily becomes a
Roman province.

240 to 218. The Carthaginian mercenaries who had been brought

back from Sicily to Africa, mutiny against Carthage, and nearly
succeed in destroying her. After a sanguinary and desperate
struggle, Hamilcar Barca crushes them. During this season of
weakness to Carthage, Rome takes from her the island of Sardinia.
Hamilcar Barca forms the project of obtaining compensation by
conquests in Spain, and thus enabling Carthage to renew the
struggle with Rome. He takes Hannibal (then a child) to Spain
with him. He and, after his death, his brother, win great part
of southern Spain to the Carthaginian interest. Hannibal obtains
the command of the Carthaginian armies in Spain, 221 B.C., being
then twenty-six years old. He attacks Saguntum, a city on the
Ebro in alliance with Rome, which is the immediate pretext for
the second Punic war.

During this interval Rome had to sustain a storm from the north.
The Cisalpine Gauls, in 226, formed an alliance with one of the
fiercest tribes of their brethren north of the Alps, and began a
furious war against the Romans, which lasted six years. The
Romans gave them several severe defeats, and took from them part
of their territories near the Po. It was on this occasion that
the Roman colonies of Cremona and Placentia were founded, the
latter of which did such essential service to Rome in the second
Punic war, by the resistance which it made to the army of
Hasdrubal. A muster-roll was made in this war of the effective
military force of the Romans themselves, and of those Italian
states that were subject to them. The return showed a force of
seven hundred thousand foot, and seventy thousand horse.
Polybius mentions this muster.
228. Hannibal crosses the Alps and invades Italy.

CHAPTER IV.

THE BATTLE OF THE METAURUS, B.C. 207.

Quid debeas, 0 Roma, Neronibus,

Testis Metaurum flumen, et Hasdrubal
Devictus, et pulcher fugatis
Ille dies Latio tenebris,

Qui primus alma risit adorea;

Dirus per urbes Afer ut Italas,
Ceu flamma per taedas, vel Eurus
Per Siculas equitavit undas.--HORATIUS, iv. Od. 4.

". . . The consul Nero, who made the unequalled march which
deceived Hannibal, and defeated Hasdrubal, thereby accomplishing
an achievement almost unrivalled in military annals. The first
intelligence of his return, to Hannibal, was the sight of
Hasdrubal's head thrown into his camp. When Hannibal saw this,
he exclaimed with a sigh, that 'Rome would now be the mistress of
the world.' To this victory of Nero's it might be owing that his
imperial namesake reigned at all. But the infamy of the one has
eclipsed the glory of the other. When the name of Nero is heard,
who thinks of the consul! But such are human things."--BYRON.

About midway between Rimini and Ancona a little river falls into
the Adriatic, after traversing one of those districts of Italy,
in which a vain attempt has lately been made to revive, after
long centuries of servitude and shame, the spirit of Italian
nationality, and the energy of free institutions. That stream is
still called the Metauro; and wakens by its name recollections of
the resolute daring of ancient Rome, and of the slaughter that
stained its current two thousand and sixty-three years ago, when
the combined consular armies of Livius and Nero encountered and
crushed near its banks the varied hosts which Hannibal's brother
was leading from the Pyrenees, the Rhone, the Alps, and the Po,
to aid the great Carthaginian in his stern struggle to annihilate
the growing might of the Roman Republic, and make the Punic power
supreme over all the nations of the world.

The Roman historian, who termed that struggle the most memorable
of all wars that ever were carried on, [Livy, Lib. xxi. sec. 1.]
wrote-in no spirit of exaggeration. For it is not in ancient but
in modern history, that parallels for its incidents and its
heroes are to be found. The similitude between the contest which
Rome maintained against Hannibal, and that which England was for
many years engaged in against Napoleon, has not passed unobserved
by recent historians. "Twice," says Arnold, [Vol. iii, p. 62.
See also Alison--PASSIM.] "has there been witnessed the struggle
of the highest individual genius against the resources and
institutions of a great nation; and in both cases the nation has
been victorious. For seventeen years Hannibal strove against
Rome; for sixteen years Napoleon Bonaparte strove against
England; the efforts of the first ended in Zama, those of the
second in Waterloo." One point, however, of the similitude
between the two wars has scarcely been adequately dwelt on. That
is, the remarkable parallel between the Roman general who finally
defeated the great Carthaginian, and the English general who gave
the last deadly overthrow to the French emperor. Scipio and
Wellington both held for many years commands of high importance,
but distant from the main theatres of warfare. The same country
was the scene of the principal military career of each. It was
in Spain that Scipio, like Wellington, successively encountered
and overthrew nearly all the subordinate generals of the enemy,
before being opposed to the chief champion and conqueror himself.
Both Scipio and Wellington restored their countrymen's confidence
in arms, when shaken by a series of reverses. And each of them
closed a long and perilous war by a complete and overwhelming
defeat of the chosen leader and the chosen veterans of the foe.

Nor is the parallel between them limited to their, military

characters and exploits. Scipio, like Wellington, became an
important leader of the aristocratic party among his countrymen,
and was exposed to the unmeasured invectives of the violent
section of his political antagonists. When, early in the last
reign, an infuriated mob assaulted the Duke of Wellington in the
streets of the English capital on the anniversary of Waterloo,
England was even more disgraced by that outrage, than Rome was by
the factious accusations which demagogues brought against Scipio,
but which he proudly repelled on the day of trial, by reminding
the assembled people that it was the anniversary of the battle of
Zama. Happily, a wiser and a better spirit has now for years
pervaded all classes of our community; and we shall be spared the
ignominy of having worked out to the end the parallel of national
iugratitude. Scipio died a voluntary exile from the malevolent
turbulence of Rome. Englishmen of all ranks and politics have
now long united in affectionate admiration of our modern Scipio:
and even those who have most widely differed from the Duke on
legislative or administrative questions, forget what they deem
the political errors of that time-honoured head, while they
gratefully call to mind the laurels that have wreathed it.

Scipio at Zama trampled in the dust the power of Carthage; but

that power had been already irreparably shattered in another
field, where neither Scipio nor Hannibal commanded. When the
Metaurus witnessed the defeat and death of Hasdrubal, it
witnessed the ruin of the scheme by which alone Carthage could
hope to organise decisive success,--the scheme of enveloping Rome
at once from the north and the south of Italy by chosen armies,
led by two sons of Hamilcar. [See Arnold, vol. iii, p. 387.]
That battle was the determining crisis of the contest, not merely
between Rome and Carthage, but between the two great families of
the world, which then made Italy the arena of their oft-renewed
contest for pre-eminence.

The French historian Michelet whose "Histoire Romaine" would have

been invaluable, if the general industry and accuracy of the
writer had in any degree equalled his originality and brilliancy,
eloquently remarks: "It is not without reason that so universal
and vivid a remembrance of the Punic wars has dwelt in the
memories of men. They formed no mere struggle to determine the
lot of two cities or two empires; but it was a strife on the
event of which depended the fate of two races of mankind, whether
the dominion of the world should belong to the Indo-Germanic or
to the Semitic family of nations. Bear in mind, that the first
of these comprises, besides the Indians and the Persians, the
Greeks, the Romans, and the Germans. In the other are ranked the
Jews and the Arabs, the Phoenicians and the Carthaginians. On
the one side is the genius of heroism, of art, and legislation:
on the other is the spirit of industry, of commerce, of
navigation. The two opposite races have everywhere come into
contact, everywhere into hostility. In the primitive history of
Persia and Chaldea, the heroes are perpetually engaged in combat
with their industrious and perfidious, neighbours. The struggle
is renewed between the Phoenicians and the Greeks on every coast
of the Mediterranean. The Greek supplants the Phoenician in all
his factories, all his colonies in the east: soon will the Roman
come, and do likewise in the west. Alexander did far more
against Tyre than Salmanasar or Nabuchodonosor had done. Not
content with crushing her, he took care that she never should
revive: for he founded Alexandria as her substitute, and changed
for ever the track of commerce of the world. There remained
Carthage--the great Carthage, and her mighty empire,--mighty in a
far different degree than Phoenicia's had been. Rome annihilated
it. Then occurred that which has no parallel in history,--an
entire civilisation perished at one blow--vanished, like a
falling star. The 'Periplus' of Hanno, a few coins, a score of
lines in Plautus, and, lo, all that remains of the Carthaginian
world!

"Many generations must needs pass away before the struggle

between the two races could be renewed; and the Arabs, that
formidable rear-guard of the Semitic world, dashed forth from
their deserts. The conflict between the two races then became
the conflict of two religions. Fortunate was it that those
daring Saracenic cavaliers encountered in the East the
impregnable walls of Constantinople, in the West the chivalrous
valour of Charles Martel and the sword of the Cid. The crusades
were the natural reprisals for the Arab invasions, and form the
last epoch of that great struggle between the two principal
families of the human race."

It is difficult amid the glimmering light supplied by the

allusions of the classical writers to gain a full idea of the
character and institutions of Rome's great rival. But we can
perceive how inferior Carthage was to her competitor in military
resources; and how far less fitted than Rome she was to become
the founder of centralized and centralizing dominion, that should
endure for centuries, and fuse into imperial unity the narrow
nationalities of the ancient races that dwelt around and near the
shores of the Mediterranean Sea.

Carthage was originally neither the most ancient nor the most
powerful of the numerous colonies which the Phoenicians planted
on the coast of Northern Africa. But her advantageous position,
the excellence of her constitution (of which, though ill-informed
as to its details, we know that it commanded the admiration of
Aristotle), and the commercial and political energy of her
citizens, gave her the ascendancy over Hippo, Utica, Leptis, and
her other sister Phoenician cities in those regions; and she
finally seduced them to a condition of dependency, similar to
that which the subject allies of Athens occupied relatively to
that once imperial city. When Tyre and Sidon and the other
cities of Phoenicia itself sank from independent republics into
mere vassal states of the great Asiatic monarchies and obeyed by
turns a Babylonian, a Persian, and a Macedonian master, their
power and their traffic rapidly declined; and Carthage succeeded
to the important maritime and commercial character which they had
previously maintained. The Carthaginians did not seek to compete
with the Greeks on the north-eastern shores of the Mediterranean,
or in the three inland seas which are connected with it; but they
maintained an active intercourse with the Phoenicians, and
through them with lower and Central Asia; and they, and they
alone, after the decline and fall of Tyre, navigated the waters
of the Atlantic. They had the monopoly of all the commerce of
the world that was carried on beyond the Straits of Gibraltar.
We have yet extant (in a Greek translation) the narrative of the
voyage of Hanno, one of their admirals, along the western coast
of Africa as far as Sierra Leone. And in the Latin poem of
Festus Avienus, frequent references are made to the records of
the voyages of another celebrated Carthaginian admiral, Himilco,
who had explored the north-western coast of Europe. Our own
islands are mentioned by Himilco as the lands of the Hiberni and
the Albioni. It is indeed certain that the Carthaginians
frequented the Cornish coast (as the Phoenicians had done before
them) for the purpose of procuring tin; and there is every reason
to believe that they sailed as far as the coasts of the Baltic
for amber. When it is remembered that the mariner's compass was
unknown in those ages, the boldness and skill of the seamen of
Carthage, and the enterprise of her merchants, may be paralleled
with any achievements that the history of modern navigation and
commerce can supply.

In their Atlantic voyages along the African shores, the

Carthaginians followed the double object of trade and
colonization. The numerous settlements that were planted by them
along the coast from Morocco to Senegal, provided for the needy
members of the constantly-increasing population of a great
commercial capital; and also strengthened the influence which
Carthage exercised among the tribes of the African coast.
Besides her fleets, her caravans gave her a large and lucrative
trade with the native Africans; nor must we limit our belief of
the extent of the Carthaginian trade with the tribes of Central
and Western Africa, by the narrowness of the commercial
intercourse which civilized nations of modern times have been
able to create in those regions.

Although essentially a mercantile and seafaring people, the

Carthaginians by no means neglected agriculture. On the
contrary, the whole of their territory was cultivated like a
garden. The fertility of the soil repaid the skill and toil
bestowed on it; and every invader, from Agathocles to Scipio
AEmilianus, was struck with admiration at the rich pasture-lands
carefully irrigated, the abundant harvests, the luxuriant
vineyards, the plantations of fig and olive-trees, the thriving
villages, the populous towns, and the splendid villas of the
wealthy Carthaginians, through which his march lay, as long as he
was on Carthaginian ground.

The Carthaginians abandoned the Aegean and the Pontus to the

Greeks, but they were by no means disposed to relinquish to those
rivals the commerce and the dominion of the coasts of the
Mediterranean westward of Italy. For centuries the Carthaginians
strove to make themselves masters of the islands that lie between
Italy and Spain. They acquired the Balearic islands, where the
principal harbour, Port Mahon, still bears the name of the
Carthaginian admiral. They succeeded in reducing the greater
part of Sardinia; but Sicily could never be brought into their
power. They repeatedly invaded that island, and nearly overran
it; but the resistance which was opposed to them by the
Syracusans under Gelon, Dionysius, Timoleon, and Agathocles,
preserved the island from becoming Punic, though many of its
cities remained under the Carthaginian rule, until Rome finally
settled the question to whom Sicily was to belong, by conquering
it for herself.

With so many elements of success, with almost unbounded wealth

with commercial and maritime activity, with a fertile territory,
with a capital city of almost impregnable strength, with a
constitution that ensured for centuries the blessings of, social
order, with an aristocracy singularly fertile in men of the
highest genius, Carthage yet failed signally and calamitously in
her contest for power with Rome. One of the immediate causes of
this may seem to have been the want, of firmness among her
citizens, which made them terminate the first Punic war by
begging peace, sooner than endure any longer the hardships and
burdens caused by a state of warfare, although their antagonists
had suffered far more severely than themselves. Another cause
was the spirit of faction among their leading men, which
prevented Hannibal in the second war from being properly
reinforced and supported. But there were also more general
causes why Carthage proved inferior to Rome. These were her
position relatively to the mass of the inhabitants of the country
which she ruled, and her habit of trusting to mercenary armies in
her wars.

Our clearest information as to the different races of men in and

about Carthage is derived from Diodorus Siculus. [Vol. ii. p.
447, Wesseling's ed.] That historian enumerates four different
races: first, he mentions the Phoenicians who dwelt in Carthage:
next, he speaks of the Liby-Phoenicians; these, he tells us,
dwelt in many of the maritime cities, and were connected by
intermarriages with the Phoenicians, which was the cause of their
compound name: thirdly, he mentions the Libyans, the bulk and
the most ancient part of the population, hating the Carthaginians
intensely, on account of the oppressiveness of their domination:
lastly, he names the Numidians, the nomad tribes of the frontier.

It is evident, from this description, that the native Libyans

were a subject class, without franchise or political rights; and,
accordingly, we find no instance specified in history of a Libyan
holding political office or military command. The half-castes,
the Liby-Phoenicians, seem to have been sometimes sent out as
colonists; [See the "Periplus" of Hanno.] but it may be
inferred, from what Diodorus says of their residence, that they
had not the right of the citizenship of Carthage: and only a
solitary case occurs of one of this race being entrusted with
authority, and that, too, not emanating from the home government.
This is the instance of the officer sent by Hannibal to Sicily,
after the fall of Syracuse; whom Polybius [Lib. ix. 22.] calls
Myttinus the Libyan, but whom, from the fuller account in Livy,
we find to have been a Liby-Phoenician [Lib. xxv. 40.] and it is
expressly mentioned what indignation was felt by the Carthaginian
commanders in the island that this half-caste should control
their operations.

With respect to the composition of their armies, it is observable

that, though thirsting for extended empire, and though some of
the leading men became generals of the highest order, the
Carthaginians, as a people, were anything but personally warlike.
As long as they could hire mercenaries to fight for them, they
had little appetite for the irksome training, and they grudged
the loss of valuable time, which military service would have
entailed on themselves.

As Michelet remarks, "The life of an industrious merchant, of a

Carthaginian, was too precious to be risked, as long as it was
possible to substitute advantageously for it that of a barbarian
from Spain or Gaul. Carthage knew, and could tell to a drachma,
what the life of a man of each nation came to. A Greek was worth
more than a Campanian, a Campanian worth more than a Gaul or a
Spaniard. When once this tariff of blood was correctly made out,
Carthage began a war as a mercantile speculation. She tried to
make conquests in the hope of getting new mines to work, or to
open fresh markets for her exports. In one venture she could
afford to spend fifty thousand mercenaries, in another, rather
more. If the returns were good, there was no regret felt for the
capital that had been lavished in the investment; more money got
more men, and all went on well." [Histoire Romaine, vol. ii. p.
40.]

Armies composed of foreign mercenaries have, in all ages, been as

formidable to their employers as to the enemy against whom they
were directed. We know of one occasion (between the first and
second Punic wars) when Carthage was brought to the very brink of
destruction by a revolt of her foreign troops. Other mutinies of
the same kind must from time to time have occurred. Probably one
of these was the cause of the comparative weakness of Carthage at
the time of the Athenian expedition against Syracuse; so
different from the energy with which she attacked Gelon half a
century earlier, and Dionysius half a century later. And even
when we consider her armies with reference only to their
efficiency in warfare, we perceive at once the inferiority of
such bands of condottieri, brought together without any common
bond of origin, tactics, or cause, to the legions of Rome, which
at the time of the Punic wars were raised from the very flower of
a hardy agricultural population trained in the strictest
discipline, habituated to victory, and animated by the most
resolute patriotism. And this shows also the transcendency of
the genius of Hannibal, which could form such discordant
materials into a compact organized force, and inspire them with
the spirit of patient discipline and loyalty to their chief; so
that they were true to him in his adverse as well as in his
prosperous fortunes; and throughout the chequered series of his
campaigns no panic rout ever disgraced a division under his
command; no mutiny, or even attempt at mutiny, was ever known in
his camp; and, finally, after fifteen years of Italian warfare,
his men followed their old leader to Zama, "with no fear and
little hope;" ["We advanced to Waterloo as the Greeks did to
Thermopylae; all of us without fear and most of us without
hope."--SPEECH OF GENERAL FOY.] and there, on that disastrous
field, stood firm around him, his Old Guard, till Scipio's
Numidian allies came up on their flank; when at last, surrounded
and overpowered, the veteran battalions sealed their devotion to
their general with their blood.

"But if Hannibal's genius may be likened to the Homeric god, who,

in his hatred to the Trojans, rises from the deep to rally the
fainting Greeks, and to lead them against the enemy, so the calm
courage with which Hector met his more than human adversary in
his country's cause, is no unworthy image of the unyielding
magnanimity displayed by the aristocracy of Rome. As Hannibal
utterly eclipses Carthage, so, on the contrary, Fabius,
Marcellus, Claudius Nero, even Scipio himself, are as nothing
when compared to the spirit, and wisdom, and power of Rome. The
senate, which voted its thanks to its political enemy, Varro,
after his disastrous defeat, 'because he had not despaired of the
commonwealth,' and which disdained either to solicit, or to
reprove, or to threaten, or in any way to notice the twelve
colonies which had refused their customary supplies of men for
the army, is far more to be honoured than the conqueror of Zama.
This we should the more carefully bear in mind because our
tendency is to admire individual greatness far more than
national; and, as no single Roman will bear comparison to
Hannibal, we are apt to murmur at the event of the contest, and
to think that the victory was awarded to the least worthy of the
combatants. On the contrary, never was the wisdom of God's
Providence more manifest than in the issue of the struggle
between Rome and Carthage. It was clearly for the good of man
kind that Hannibal should be conquered: his triumph would have
stopped the progress of the world. For great men can only act
permanently by forming great nations; and no one man, even though
it were Hannibal himself, can in one generation effect such a
work. But where the nation has been merely enkindled for a while
by a great man's spirit, the light passes away with him who
communicated it; and the nation, when he is gone, is like a dead
body, to which magic power had, for a moment, given unnatural
life: when the charm has ceased, the body is cold and stiff as
before. He who grieves over the battle of Zama should carry on
his thoughts to a period thirty years later, when Hannibal must,
in the course of nature, have been dead, and consider how the
isolated Phoenician city of Carthage was fitted to receive and to
consolidate the civilization of Greece, or by its laws and
institutions to bind together barbarians of every race and
language into an organized empire, and prepare them for becoming,
when that empire was dissolved, the free members of the
commonwealth of Christian Europe." [Arnold, vol. iii. p. 61. The
above is one of the numerous bursts of eloquence that adorn
Arnold's third volume, and cause such deep regret that that
volume should have been the last, and its great and good author
have been cut off with his work thus incomplete.]
It was in the spring of 207 B.C. that Hasdrubal, after skilfully
disentangling himself from the Roman forces in Spain, and, after
a march conducted with great judgment and little loss, through
the interior of Gaul and the passes of the Alps, appeared in the
country that now is the north of Lombardy, at the head of troops
which he had partly brought out of Spain, and partly levied among
the Gauls and Ligurians on his way. At this time Hannibal with
his unconquered, and seemingly unconquerable army, had been
eleven years in Italy, executing with strenuous ferocity the vow
of hatred to Rome which had been sworn by him while yet a child
at the bidding of his father, Hamilcar; who, as he boasted, had
trained up his three sons, Hannibal, Hasdrubal, and Mago, Like
three lion's whelps, to prey upon the Romans. But Hannibal's
latter campaigns had not been signalised by any such great
victories as marked the first years of his invasion of Italy.
The stern spirit of Roman resolution, ever highest in disaster
and danger, had neither bent nor despaired beneath the merciless
blows which "the dire African" dealt her in rapid succession at
Trebia, at Thrasymene, and at Cannae. Her population was thinned
by repeated slaughter in the field; poverty and actual scarcity
wore down the survivors, through the fearful ravages which
Hannibal's cavalry spread through their corn-fields, their
pasture-lands, and their vineyards; many of her allies went over
to the invader's side; and new clouds of foreign war threatened
her from Macedonia and Gaul. But Rome receded not. Rich and
poor among her citizens vied with each other in devotion to their
country. The wealthy placed their stores, and all placed their
lives at the state's disposal. And though Hannibal could not be
driven out of Italy, though every year brought its sufferings and
sacrifices, Rome felt that her constancy had not been exerted in
vain. If she was weakened by the continual strife, so was
Hannibal also; and it was clear that the unaided resources of his
army were unequal to the task of her destruction. The single
deer-hound could not pull down the quarry which he had so
furiously assailed. Rome not only stood fiercely at bay, but had
pressed back and gored her antagonist, that still, however,
watched her in act to spring. She was weary, and bleeding at
every pore; and there seemed to be little hope of her escape, if
the other hound of old Hamilcar's race should come up in time to
aid his brother in the death-grapple.

Hasdrubal had commanded the Carthaginian armies in Spain for some

time, with varying but generally unpropitious fortune. He had
not the full authority over the Punic forces in that country
which his brother and his father had previously exercised. The
faction at Carthage, which was at feud with his family, succeeded
in fettering and interfering with his power; and other generals
were from time to time sent into Spain, whose errors and
misconduct caused the reverses that Hasdrubal met with. This is
expressly attested by the Greek historian Polybius, who was the
intimate friend of the younger Africanus, and drew his
information respecting the second Punic war from the best
possible authorities. Livy gives a long narrative of campaigns
between the Roman commanders in Spain and Hasdrubal, which is so
palpably deformed by fictions and exaggerations as to be hardly
deserving of attention. [See the excellent criticisms of Sir
Walter Raleigh on this, in his "History of the World," book v.
chap. iii. sec. 11.]

It is clear that in the year 208 B.C., at least, Hasdrubal

outmanoeuvred Publius Scipio, who held the command of the Roman
forces in Spain; and whose object was to prevent him from passing
the Pyrenees and marching upon Italy. Scipio expected that
Hasdrubal would attempt the nearest route, along the coast of the
Mediterranean; and he therefore carefully fortified and guarded
the passes of the eastern Pyrenees. But Hasdrubal passed these
mountains near their western extremity; and then, with a
considerable force of Spanish infantry, with a small number of
African troops, with some elephants and much treasure, he
marched, not directly towards the coast of the Mediterranean, but
in a north-eastern line towards the centre of Gaul. He halted
for the winter in the territory of the Arverni, the modern
Auvergne; and conciliated or purchased the good-will of the Gauls
in that region so far, that he not only found friendly winter
quarters among them, but great numbers of them enlisted under
him, and on the approach of spring marched with him to invade
Italy.

By thus entering Gaul at the south-west, and avoiding its

southern maritime districts, Hasdrubal kept the Romans in
complete ignorance of his precise operations and movements in
that country; all that they knew was that Hasdrubal had baffled
Scipio's attempts to detain him in Spain; that he had crossed the
Pyrenees with soldiers, elephants, and money, and that he was
raising fresh forces among the Gauls. The spring was sure to
bring him into Italy; and then would come the real tempest of the
war, when from the north and from the south the two Carthaginian
armies, each under a son of the Thunderbolt, were to gather
together around the seven hills of Rome. [Hamilcar was surnamed
Barca, which means the Thunderbolt. Sultan Bajazet had the
similar surname of Yilderim.]

In this emergency the Romans looked among themselves earnestly

and anxiously for leaders fit to meet the perils of the coming
campaign.

The senate recommended the people to elect, as one of their

consuls, Caius Claudius Nero, a patrician of one of the families
of the great Claudian house. Nero had served during the
preceding years of the war, both against Hannibal in Italy, and
against Hasdrubal in Spain; but it is remarkable that the
histories, which we possess, record no successes as having been
achieved by him either before or after his great campaign of the
Metaurus. It proves much for the sagacity of the leading men of
the senate, that they recognised in Nero the energy and spirit
which were required at this crisis, and it is equally creditable
to the patriotism of the people, that they followed the advice of
the senate by electing a general who had no showy exploits to
recommend him to their choice.

It was a matter of greater difficulty to find a second consul;

the laws required that one consul should be a plebeian; and the
plebeian nobility had been fearfully thinned by the events of the
war. While the senators anxiously deliberated among themselves
what fit colleague for Nero could be nominated at the coming
comitia, and sorrowfully recalled the names of Marcellus,
Gracchus, and other plebeian generals who were no more--one
taciturn and moody old man sat in sullen apathy among the
conscript fathers. This was Marcus Livius, who had been consul
in the gear before the beginning of this war, and had then gained
a victory over the Illyrians. After his consulship he had been
impeached before the people on a charge of peculation and unfair
division of the spoils among his soldiers: the verdict was
unjustly given against him, and the sense of this wrong, and of
the indignity thus put upon him, had rankled unceasingly in the
bosom of Livius, so that for eight years after his trial he had
lived in seclusion at his country seat, taking no part in any
affairs of state. Latterly the censors had compelled him to come
to Rome and resume his place in the senate, where he used to sit
gloomily apart, giving only a silent vote. At last an unjust
accusation against one of his near kinsmen made him break
silence; and he harangued the house in words of weight and sense,
which drew attention to him, and taught the senators that a
strong spirit dwelt beneath that unimposing exterior. Now, while
they were debating on what noble of a plebeian house was fit to
assume the perilous honours of the consulate, some of the elder
of them looked on Marcus Livius, and remembered that in the very
last triumph which had been celebrated in the streets of Rome
this grim old man had sat in the car of victory; and that he had
offered the last grand thanksgiving sacrifice for the success of
the Roman arms that had bled before Capitoline Jove. There had
been no triumphs since Hannibal came into Italy. [Marcellus had
been only allowed an ovation for the conquest of Syracuse.] The
Illyrian campaign of Livius was the last that had been so
honoured; perhaps it might be destined for him now to renew the
long-interrupted series. The senators resolved that Livius
should be put in nomination as consul with Nero; the people were
willing to elect him; the only opposition came from himself. He
taunted them with their inconsistency is honouring a man they had
convicted of a base crime. "If I am innocent," said he, "why did
you place such a stain on me? If I am guilty, why am I more fit
for a second consulship than I was for my first one?" The other
senators remonstrated with him urging the example of the great
Camillus, who, after an unjust condemnation on a similar charge,
both served and saved his country. At last Livius ceased to
object; and Caius Claudius Nero and Marcus Livius were chosen
consuls of Rome.

A quarrel had long existed between the two consuls, and the
senators strove to effect a reconciliation between them before
the campaign. Here again Livius for a long time obstinately
resisted the wish of his fellow-senators. He said it was best
for the state that he and Nero should continue to hate one
another. Each would do his duty better, when he knew that he was
watched by an enemy in the person of his own colleague. At last
the entreaties of the senators prevailed, and Livius consented to
forego the feud, and to co-operate with Nero in preparing for the
coming struggle.

As soon as the winter snows were thawed, Hasdrubal commenced his

march from Auvergne to the Alps. He experienced none of the
difficulties which his brother had met with from the mountain
tribes. Hannibal's army had been the first body of regular
troops that had ever traversed the regions; and, as wild animals
assail a traveller, the natives rose against it instinctively, in
imagined defence of their own habitations, which they supposed to
be the objects of Carthaginian ambition. But the fame of the
war, with which Italy had now been convulsed for eleven years,
had penetrated into the Alpine passes; and the mountaineers
understood that a mighty city, southward of the Alps, was to be
attacked by the troops whom they saw marching among them. They
not only opposed no resistance to the passage of Hasdrubal, but
many of them, out of the love of enterprise and plunder, or
allured by the high pay that he offered, took service with him;
and thus he advanced upon Italy with an army that gathered
strength at every league. It is said, also, that some of the
most important engineering works which Hannibal had constructed,
were found by Hasdrubal still in existence, and materially
favoured the speed of his advance. He thus emerged into Italy
from the Alpine valleys much sooner than had been anticipated.
Many warriors of the Ligurian tribes joined him; and, crossing
the river Po, he marched down its southern bank to the city of
Placentia, which he wished to secure as a base for his future
operations. Placentia resisted him as bravely as it had resisted
Hannibal eleven years before; and for some time Hasdrubal was
occupied with a fruitless siege before its walls.

Six armies were levied for the defence of Italy when the long-
dreaded approach of Hasdrubal was announced. Seventy thousand
Romans served in the fifteen legions of which, with an equal
number of Italian allies, those armies and the garrisons were
composed. Upwards of thirty thousand more Romans were serving in
Sicily, Sardinia, and Spain. The whole number of Roman citizens
of an age fit for military duty scarcely exceeded a hundred and
thirty thousand. The census taken before the war had shown a
total of two hundred and seventy thousand, which had been
diminished by more than half during twelve years. These numbers
are fearfully emphatic of the extremity to which Rome was
reduced, and of her gigantic efforts in that great agony of her
fate. Not merely men, but money and military stores, were
drained to the utmost; and if the armies of that year should be
swept off by a repetition of the slaughters of Thrasymene and
Cannae, all felt that Rome would cease to exist. Even if the
campaign were to be marked by no decisive success on either side,
her ruin seemed certain. In South Italy Hannibal had either
detached Rome's allies from her, or had impoverished them by the
ravages of his army. If Hasdrubal could have done the same in
Upper Italy; if Etruria, Umbria, and Northern Latium had either
revolted or been laid waste, Rome must have sunk beneath sheer
starvation; for the hostile or desolated territory would have
yielded no supplies of corn for her population; and money, to
purchase it from abroad, there was none. Instant victory was a
matter of life and death. Three of her six armies were ordered
to the north, but the first of these was required to overawe the
disaffected Etruscans. The second army of the north was pushed
forward, under Porcius, the praetor, to meet and keep in, check
the advanced troops of Hasdrubal; while the third, the grand army
of the north, which was to be under the immediate command of the
consul Livius, who had the chief command in all North Italy,
advanced more slowly in its support. There were similarly three
armies in the south, under the orders of the other consul
Claudius Nero.

The lot had decided that Livius was to be opposed to Hasdrubal,

and that Nero should face Hannibal. And "when all was ordered as
themselves thought best, the two consuls went forth of the city;
each his several way. The people of Rome were now quite
otherwise affected, than they had been, when L. AEmilius Paulus
and C. Tarentius Varro were sent against Hannibal. They did no
longer take upon them to direct their generals, or bid them
dispatch, and win the victory betimes; but rather they stood in
fear, lest all diligence, wisdom, and valour should prove too
little. For since, few years had passed, wherein some one of
their generals had not been slain; and since it was manifest,
that if either of these present consuls were defeated, or put to
the worst, the two Carthaginians would forthwith join, and make
short work with the other: it seemed a greater happiness than
could be expected, that each of them should return home victor;
and come off with honour from such mighty opposition as he was
like to find. With extreme difficulty had Rome held up her head
ever since the battle of Cannae; though it were so, that Hannibal
alone, with little help from Carthage, had continued the war in
Italy. But there was now arrived another son of Amilcar; and one
that, in his present expedition, had seemed a man of more
sufficiency than Hannibal himself. For, whereas in that long and
dangerous march through barbarous nations, over great rivers and
mountains, that were thought unpassable, Hannibal had lost a
great part of his army; this Asdrubal, in the same places, had
multiplied his numbers; and gathering the people that he found in
the way, descended from the Alps like a rolling snow-ball, far
greater than he came over the Pyrenees at his first setting out
of Spain. These considerations, and the like, of which fear
presented many unto them, caused the people of Rome to wait upon
their consuls out of the town, like a pensive train of mourners;
thinking upon Marcellus and Crispinus, upon whom, in the like
sort, they had given attendance the last year, but saw neither of
them return alive from a less dangerous war. Particularly old Q.
Fabius gave his accustomed advice to M. Livius, that he should
abstain from giving or taking battle, until he well understood
the enemies' condition. But the consul made him a froward
answer, and said, that he would fight the very first day, for
that he thought it long till he should either recover his honour
by victory, or, by seeing the overthrow of his own unjust
citizens, satisfy himself with the joy of a great, though not an
honest revenge. But his meaning was better than his words."
[Sir Walter Raleigh.]

Hannibal at this period occupied with his veteran but much

reduced forces the extreme south of Italy. It had not been
expected either by friend or foe, that Hasdrubal would effect his
passage of the Alps so early in the year as actually occurred.
And even when Hannibal learned that his brother was in Italy, and
had advanced as far as Placentia, he was obliged to pause for
further intelligence, before he himself commenced active
operations, as he could not tell whether his brother might not be
invited into Etruria, to aid the party there that was disaffected
to Rome or whether he would march down by the Adriatic Sea.
Hannibal led his troops out of their winter quarters in Bruttium,
and marched northward as far as Canusium. Nero had his head-
quarters near Venusia, with an army which he had increased to
forty thousand foot and two thousand five hundred horse, by
incorporating under his own command some of the legions which had
been intended to set under other generals in the south. There
was another Roman army twenty thousand strong, south of Hannibal,
at Tarentum. The strength of that city secured this Roman force
from any attack by Hannibal, and it was a serious matter to march
northward and leave it in his rear, free to act against all his
depots and allies in the friendly part of Italy, which for the
last two or three campaigns had served him for a base of his
operations. Moreover, Nero's army was so strong that Hannibal
could not concentrate troops enough to assume the offensive
against it without weakening his garrisons, and relinquishing, at
least for a time, his grasp upon the southern provinces. To do
this before he was certainly informed of his brother's operations
would have been an useless sacrifice; as Nero could retreat
before him upon the other Roman armies near the capital, and
Hannibal knew by experience that a mere advance of his army upon
the walls of Rome would have no effect on the fortunes of the
war. In the hope, probably, of inducing Nero to follow him, and
of gaining an opportunity of outmanoeuvring the Roman consul and
attacking him on his march, Hannibal moved into Lucania, and then
back into Apulis;--he again marched down into Bruttium, and
strengthened his army by a levy of recruits in that district.
Nero followed him, but gave him no chance of assailing him at a
disadvantage. Some partial encounters seem to have taken place;
but the consul could not prevent Hannibal's junction with his
Bruttian levies, nor could Hannibal gain an opportunity of
surprising and crushing the consul. Hannibal returned to his
former head-quarters at Canusium, and halted there in expectation
of further tidings of his brother's movements. Nero also resumed
his former position in observation of the Carthaginian army.

[The annalists whom Livy copied, spoke of Nero's gaining repeated

victories over Hannibal, and killing; and taking his men by tens
of thousands. The falsehood of all this is self-evident. If
Nero could thus always beat Hannibal, the Romans would not have
been in such an agony of dread about Hasdrubal, as all writers
describe. Indeed, we have the express testimony of Polybius that
such statements as we read in Livy of Marcellus, Nero, and others
gaining victories over Hannibal in Italy, must be all
fabrications of Roman vanity. Polybius states (Lib. xv. sec. 16)
that Hannibal was never defeated before the battle of Zama; and
in another passage (Book ix. chap, 3) he mentions that after the
defeats which Hannibal inflicted on the Romans in the early years
of the war, they no longer dared face his army in a pitched
battle on a fair field, and yet they resolutely maintained the
war. He rightly explains this by referring to the superiority of
Hannibal's cavalry the arm which gained him all his victories.
By keeping within fortified lines, or close to the sides of the
mountains when Hannibal approached them, the Romans rendered his
cavalry ineffective; and a glance at the geography of Italy will
show how an army can traverse the greater part of that country
without venturing far from the high grounds.]

Meanwhile, Hasdrubal had raised the siege of Placentia, and was

advancing towards Ariminum on the Adriatic, and driving before
him the Roman army under Porcina. Nor when the consul Livius had
come up, and united the second and third armies of the north,
could he make head against the invaders. The Romans still fell
back before Hasdrubal, beyond Ariminum, beyond the Metaurus, and
as far as the little town of Sena, to the southeast of that
river. Hasdrubal was not unmindful of the necessity of acting in
concert with his brother. He sent messengers to Hannibal to
announce his own line of march and to propose that they should
unite their armies in South Umbria, and then wheel round against
Rome. Those messengers traversed the greater part of Italy in
safety; but, when close to the object of their mission, were
captured by a Roman detachment; and Hasdrubal's letter, detailing
his whole plan of the campaign, was laid, not in his brother's
hands, but in those of the commander of the Roman armies of the
south. Nero saw at once the full importance of the crisis. The
two sons of Hamilcar were now within two hundred miles of each
other, and if Rome were to be saved, the brothers must never meet
alive. Nero instantly ordered seven thousand picked men, a
thousand being cavalry, to hold themselves in readiness for a
secret expedition against one of Hannibal's garrisons; and as
soon as night had set in, he hurried forward on his bold
enterprise: but he quickly left the southern road towards
Lucania, and wheeling round, pressed northward with the utmost
rapidity towards Picenum. He had, during the preceding
afternoon, sent messengers to Rome, who were to lay Hasdrubal's
letters before the senate. There was a law forbidding a consul
to make war or to march his army beyond the limits of the
province assigned to him; but in such an emergency Nero did not
wait for the permission of the senate to execute his project, but
informed them that he was already on his march to join Livius
against Hasdrubal. He advised them to send the two legions which
formed the home garrison, on to Narnia, so as to defend that pass
of the Flaminian road against Hasdrubal, in case he should march
upon Rome before the consular armies could attack him. They were
to supply the place of those two legions at Rome by a levy
EN MASSE in the city, and by ordering up the reserve legion from
Capua. These were his communications to the senate. He also
sent horseman forward along his line of march, with orders to the
local authorities to bring stores of; provisions and refreshments
of every kind to the road-side, and to have relays of carriages
ready for the conveyance of the wearied soldiers. Such were the
precautions which he took for accelerating his march; and when he
had advanced some little distance from his camp, he briefly
informed his soldiers of the real object of their expedition. He
told them that there never was a design more seemingly audacious,
and more really safe. He said he was leading them to a certain
victory, for his colleague had an army large enough to balance
the enemy already, so that THEIR swords would decisively turn the
scale. The very rumour that a fresh consul and a fresh army had
come up, when heard on the battle-field (and he would take care
that they should not be heard of before they were seen and felt)
would settle the campaign. They would have all the credit of the
victory, and of having dealt the final decisive blow, He appealed
to the enthusiastic reception which they already met with on
their line of march as a proof and an omen of their good fortune.
[Livy. lib. xxvii. c. 45.] And, indeed, their whole path was
amidst the vows and prayers and praises of their countrymen. The
entire population of the districts through which they passed,
flocked to the road-side to see and bless the deliverers of their
country. Food, drink, and refreshments of every kind were
eagerly pressed on their acceptance. Each peasant thought a
favour was conferred on him, if one of Nero's chosen band would
accept aught at his hands. The soldiers caught the full spirit
of their leader. Night and day they marched forwards, taking
their hurried meals in the ranks and resting by relays in the
waggons which the zeal of the country-people provided, and which
followed in the rear of the column.

Meanwhile, at Rome, the news of Nero's expedition had caused the

greatest excitement and alarm. All men felt the full audacity of
the enterprise, but hesitated what epithet to apply to it. It
was evident that Nero's conduct would be judged of by the event,
that most unfair criterion, as the Roman historian truly terms
it. ["Adparebat (quo nihil iniquius est) ex eventu famam
habiturum."--LIVY, lib. xxvii. c. 44.] People reasoned on the
perilous state in which Nero had left the rest of his army,
without a general, and deprived of the core of its strength, in
the vicinity of the terrible Hannibal. They speculated on how
long it would take Hannibal to pursue and overtake Nero himself,
and his expeditionary force. They talked over the former
disasters of the war, and the fall of both the consuls of the
last year. All these calamities had come on them while they had
only one Carthaginian general and army to deal with in Italy.
Now they had two Punic wars at one time. They had two
Carthaginian armies; they had almost two Hannibals in Italy,
Hasdrubal was sprung from the same father; trained up in the same
hostility to Rome; equally practised in battle against its
legions; and, if the comparative speed and success with which he
had crossed the Alps was a fair test, he was even a better
general than his brother. With fear for their interpreter of
every rumour, they exaggerated the strength of their enemy's
forces in every quarter, and criticised and distrusted their own.

Fortunately for Rome, while she was thus a prey to terror and
anxiety, her consul's nerves were strong, and he resolutely urged
on his march towards Sena, where his colleague, Livius, and the
praetor Portius were encamped; Hasdrubal's army being in position
about half a mile to the north. Nero had sent couriers forward
to apprise his colleague of his project and of his approach; and
by the advice of Livius, Nero so timed his final march as to
reach the camp at Sena by night. According to a previous
arrangement, Nero's men were received silently into the tents of
their comrades, each according to his rank. By these means there
was no enlargement of the camp that could betray to Hasdrubal the
accession of force which the Romans had received. This was
considerable; as Nero's numbers had been increased on the march
by the volunteers, who offered themselves in crowds, and from
whom he selected the most promising men, and especially the
veterans of former campaigns. A council of war was held on the
morning after his arrival, in which some advised that time should
be given for Nero's men to refresh themselves, after the fatigue
of such a march. But Nero vehemently opposed all delay. "The
officer," said he, "who is for giving time for my men here to
rest themselves, is for giving time to Hannibal to attack my men,
whom I have left in the camp in Apulia. He is for giving time to
Hannibal and Hasdrubal to discover my march, and to manoeuvre for
a junction with each other in Cisalpine Gaul at their leisure.
We must fight instantly, while both the foe here and the foe in
the south are ignorant of our movements. We must destroy this
Hasdrubal, and I must be back In Apulia before Hannibal awakes
from his torpor." [Livy, lib. xxvii. c. 45.] Nero's advice
prevailed. It was resolved to fight directly; and before the
consuls and praetor left the tent of Livius, the red ensign,
which was the signal to prepare for immediate action, was
hoisted, and the Romans forthwith drew up in battle array outside
the camp.

Hasdrubal had been anxious to bring Livius and Porcius to battle,

though he had not judged it expedient to attack them in their
lines. And now, on hearing that the Romans offered battle, he
also drew up his men, and advanced towards them. No spy or
deserter had informed him of Nero's arrival; nor had he received
any direct information that he had more than his old enemies to
deal with. But as he rode forward to reconnoitre the Roman
lines, he thought that their numbers seemed to have increased,
and that the armour of some-of them was unusually dull and
stained. He noticed also that the horses of some of the cavalry
appeared to be rough and out of condition, as if they had just
come from a succession of forced marches. So also, though, owing
to the precaution of Livius, the Roman camp showed no change of
size, it had not escaped the quick ear of the Carthaginian
general, that the trumpet, which gave the signal to the Roman
legions, sounded that morning once oftener than usual, as if
directing the troops of some additional superior officer.
Hasdrubal, from his Spanish campaigns, was well acquainted with
all the sounds and signals of Roman war; and from all that he
heard and saw, he felt convinced that both the Roman consuls were
before him. In doubt and difficulty as to what might have taken
place between the armies of the south, and probably hoping that
Hannibal also was approaching, Hasdrubal determined to avoid an
encounter with the combined Roman forces, and to endeavour to
retreat upon Insubrian Gaul, where he would be in a friendly
country, and could endeavour to re-open his communications with
his brother. He therefore led his troops back into their camp;
and, as the Romans did not venture on an assault upon his
entrenchments, and Hasdrubal did not choose to commence his
retreat in their sight, the day passed away in inaction. At the
first watch of the night, Hasdrubal led his men silently out of
their camp, and moved northwards towards the Metaurus, in the
hope of placing that river between himself and the Romans before
his retreat was discovered. His guides betrayed him; and having
purposely led him away from the part of the river that was
fordable, they made their escape in the dark, and left Hasdrubal
and his army wandering in confusion along the steep bank, and
seeking in vain for a spot where the stream could be safely
crossed. At last they halted; and when day dawned on them,
Hasdrubal found that great numbers of his men, in their fatigue
and impatience, had lost all discipline and subordination, and
that many of his Gallic auxiliaries had got drunk, and were lying
helpless in their quarters. The Roman cavalry was soon seen
coming up in pursuit, followed at no great distance by the
legions, which marched in readiness for an instant engagement.
It was hopeless for Hasdrubal, to think of continuing his retreat
before them. The prospect of immediate battle might recall the
disordered part of his troops to a sense of duty, and revive the
instinct of discipline. He therefore ordered his men to prepare
for action instantly, and made the best arrangement of them that
the nature of the ground would permit.

Heeren has well described the general appearance of a

Carthaginian army. He says: "It was an assemblage of the most
opposite races of the human species, from the farthest parts of
the globe. Hordes of half-naked Gauls were ranged next to
companies of white clothed Iberians, and savage Ligurians next to
the far-travelled Nasamones and Lotophagi. Carthaginians and
Phoenici-Africans formed the centre; while innumerable troops of
Numidian horse-men, taken from all the tribes of the Desert,
swarmed about on unsaddled horses, and formed the wings; the van
was composed of Balearic slingers; and a line of colossal
elephants, with their Ethiopian guides, formed, as it were, a
chain of moving fortresses before the whole army. Such were the
usual materials and arrangements of the hosts that fought for
Carthage; but the troops under Hasdrubal were not in all respects
thus constituted or thus stationed. He seems to have been
especially deficient in cavalry, and he had few African troops,
though some Carthaginians of high rank were with him. His
veteran Spanish infantry, armed with helmets and shields, and
short cut-and-thrust swords, were the best part of his army.
These, and his few Africans, he drew up on his right wing, under
his own personal command. In the centre, he placed his Ligurian
infantry, and on the left wing he placed or retained the Gauls,
who were armed with long javelins and with huge broadswords and
targets. The rugged nature of the ground in front and on the
flank of this part of his line, made him hope that the Roman
right wing would be unable to come to close quarters with these
unserviceable barbarians, before he could make some impression
with his Spanish veterans on the Roman left. This was the only
chance that he had of victory or safety, and he seems to have
done everything that good generalship could do to secure it. He
placed his elephants in advance of his centre and right wing. He
had caused the driver of each of them to be provided with a sharp
iron spike and a mallet; and had given orders that every beast
that became unmanageable, and ran back upon his own ranks, should
be instantly killed, by driving the spike into the vertebra at
the junction of the head and the spine. Hasdrubal's elephants
were ten in number. We have no trustworthy information as to the
amount of his infantry, but it is quite clear that he was greatly
outnumbered by the combined Roman forces.

The tactic of the Roman legions had not yet acquired the
perfection which it received from the military genius of Marius,
[Most probably during the period of his prolonged consulship,
from B.C. 104 to B.C. 101, while he was training his army against
the Cimbri and the Teutons.] and which we read of in the first
chapter of Gibbon. We possess in that great work an account of
the Roman legions at the end of the commonwealth, and during the
early ages of the empire, which those alone can adequately
admire, who have attempted a similar description. We have also,
in the sixth and seventeenth books of Polybius, an elaborate
discussion on the military system of the Romans in his time,
which was not far distant from the time of the battle of the
Metaurus. But the subject is beset with difficulties: and
instead of entering into minute but inconclusive details, I would
refer to Gibbon's first chapter, as serving for a general
description of the Roman army in its period of perfection; and
remark, that the training and armour which the whole legion
received in the time of Augustus, was, two centuries earlier,
only partially introduced. Two divisions of troops, called
Hastati and Principes, formed the bulk of each Roman legion in
the second Punic war. Each of these divisions was twelve hundred
strong. The Hastatus and the Princeps legionary bore a breast-
plate or coat of mail, brazen greaves, and a brazen helmet, with
a lofty, upright crest of scarlet or black feathers. He had a
large oblong shield; and, as weapons of offence, two javelins,
one of which was light and slender, but the other was a strong
and massive weapon, with a shaft about four feet long, and an
iron head of equal length. The sword was carried on the right
thigh, and was a short cut-and thrust weapon, like that which was
used by the Spaniards. Thus armed, the Hastati formed the front
division of the legion, and the Principes the second. Each
division was drawn up about ten deep; a space of three feet being
allowed between the files as well as the ranks, so as to give
each legionary ample room for the use of his javelins, and of his
sword and shield. The men in the second rank did not stand
immediately behind those in the first rank, but the files were
alternate, like the position of the men on a draught board. This
was termed the quincunx order. Niebuhr considers that this
arrangement enabled the legion to keep up a shower of javelins on
the enemy for some considerable time. He says: "When the first
line had hurled its pila, it probably stepped back between those
who stood behind it, who with two steps forward restored the
front nearly to its first position; a movement which, on account
of the arrangement of the quincunx, could be executed without
losing a moment. Thus one line succeeded the other in the front
till it was time to draw the swords; nay, when it was found
expedient, the lines which had already been in the front might
repeat this change, since the stores of pila were surely not
confined to the two which each soldier took with him into battle.

"The same change must have taken place in fighting with the
sword; which, when the same tactic was adopted on both sides, was
anything but a confused MELEE; on the contrary, it was a series
of single combats." He adds, that a military man of experience
had been consulted by him on the subject, and had given it as his
opinion, "that the change of the lines as described above was by
no means impracticable; and in the absence of the deafening noise
of gunpowder, it cannot have had even any difficulty with trained
troops."

The third division of the legion was six hundred strong, and
acted as a reserve. It was always composed of veteran soldiers,
who were called the Triarii. Their arms were the same as those
of the Principes and Hastati; except that each Triarian carried a
spear instead of javelins. The rest of the legion consisted of
light armed troops, who acted as skirmishers. The cavalry of
each legion was at this period about three hundred strong. The
Italian allies, who were attached to the legion, seem to have
been similarly armed and equipped, but their numerical proportion
of cavalry was much larger.

Such was the nature of the forces that advanced on the Roman side
to the battle of the Metaurus. Nero commanded the right wing,
Livius the left, and the praetor Porcius had the command of the
centre. "Both Romans and Carthaginians well understood how much
depended upon the fortune of this day, and how little hope of
safety there was for the vanquished. Only the Romans herein
seemed to have had the better in conceit and opinion, that they
were to fight with men desirous to have fled from them. And
according to this presumption came Livius the consul, with a
proud bravery, to give charge on the Spaniards and Africans, by
whom he was so sharply entertained that victory seemed very
doubtful. The Africans and Spaniards were stout soldiers, and
well acquainted with the manner of the Roman fight. The
Ligurians, also, were a hardy nation, and not accustomed to give
ground; which they needed the less, or were able now to do, being
placed in the midst. Livius, therefore, and Porcius found great
opposition; and, with great slaughter on both sides, prevailed
little or nothing. Besides other difficulties, they were
exceedingly troubled by the elephants, that brake their first
ranks, and put them in such disorder, as the Roman ensigns were
driven to fall back; all this while Claudius Nero, labouring in
vain against a steep hill, was unable to come to blows with the
Gauls that stood opposite him, but out of danger. This made
Hasdrubal the more confident, who, seeing his own left wing safe,
did the more boldly and fiercely make impression on the other
side upon the left wing of the Romans." ["Historie of the
World," by Sir Walter Raleigh, p. 946.]

But at last Nero, who found that Hasdrubal refused his left wing,
and who could not overcome the difficulties of the ground in the
quarter assigned to him, decided the battle by another stroke of
that military genius which had inspired his march. Wheeling a
brigade of his best men round the rear of the rest of the Roman
army, Nero fiercely charged the flank of the Spaniards and
Africans. The charge was as successful as it was sudden. Rolled
back in disorder upon each other, and overwhelmed by numbers, the
Spaniards and Ligurians died, fighting gallantly to the last.
The Gauls, who had taken little or no part in the strife of the
day, were then surrounded, and butchered almost without
resistance. Hasdrubal, after having, by the confession of his
enemies, done all that a general could do, when he saw that the
victory was irreparably lost, scorning to survive the gallant;
host which he had led, and to gratify, as a captive, Roman
cruelty and pride, spurred his horse into the midst of a Roman
cohort; where, sword in hand, he met the death that was worthy of
the son of Hamilcar and the brother of Hannibal.

Success the most complete had crowned Nero's enterprise.

Returning as rapidly as he had advanced, he was again facing the
inactive enemies in the south, before they even knew of his
march. But he brought with him a ghastly trophy of what he had
done. In the true spirit of that savage brutality which deformed
the Roman national character, Nero ordered Hasdrubal's head to be
flung into his brother's camp. Eleven years had passed since
Hannibal had last gazed on those features. The sons of Hamilcar
had then planned their system of warfare against Rome, which they
had so nearly brought to successful accomplishment. Year after
year had Hannibal been struggling in Italy, in the hope of one
day hailing the arrival of him whom he had left in Spain; and of
seeing his brother's eye flash with affection and pride at the
junction of their irresistible hosts. He now saw that eye glazed
in death and, in the agony of his heart, the great Carthaginian
groaned aloud that he recognised his country's destiny.

[Carthagini jam non ego nuntios

Mittam superbos. Occidit, occidit
Spes omnis et fortuna nostri
Nominis, Hastrubale interemto.--HORACE.]

Rome was almost delirious with joy: [See the splendid

description in Livy, lib. xxvii. sec. 50, 51.] so agonising had
been the suspense with which the battle's verdict on that great
issue of a nation's life and death had been awaited; so
overpowering was the sudden reaction to the consciousness of
security, and to the full glow of glory and success. From the
time when it had been known at Rome that the armies were in
presence of each other, the people had never ceased to throng the
forum, the Conscript Fathers had been in permanent sitting at the
senate house. Ever and anon a fearful whisper crept among the
crowd of a second Cannae won by a second Hannibal. Then came
truer rumours that the day was Rome's; but the people were sick
at heart, and heeded them not. The shrines were thronged with
trembling women, who seemed to weary heaven with prayers to
shield them from the brutal Gaul and the savage African.
Presently the reports of good fortune assumed a more definite
form. It was said that two Narnian horseman had ridden from the
east into the Roman camp of observation in Umbria, and had
brought tidings of the utter slaughter of the foe. Such news
seemed too good to be true, Men tortured their neighbours and
themselves by demonstrating its improbability and by ingeniously
criticising its evidence. Soon, however, a letter came from
Lucius Manlius Acidinus, who commanded in Umbria, and who
announced the arrival of the Narnian horsemen in his camp, and
the intelligence which they brought thither. The letter was
first laid before the senate, and then before the assembly of the
people. The excitement grew more and more vehement. The letter
was read and re-read aloud to thousands. It confirmed the
previous rumour. But even this was insufficient to allay the
feverish anxiety that thrilled through every breast in Rome. The
letter might be a forgery: the Narnian horseman might be
traitors or impostors. "We must see officers from the army that
fought, or hear despatches from the consuls themselves, and then
only will we believe." Such was the public sentiment, though
some of more hopeful nature already permitted themselves a
foretaste of joy. At length came news that officers who really
had been in the battle were near at hand. Forthwith the whole
city poured forth to meet them, each person coveting to be the
first to receive with his own eyes and ears convincing proofs of
the reality of such a deliverance. One vast throng of human
beings filled the road from Rome to the Milvian bridge. The
three officers, Lucius Veturius Pollio, Publius Licinius Vasus,
and Quintus Caecilius Metellus came riding on, making their way
slowly through the living sea around them, As they advanced, each
told the successive waves of eager questioners that Rome was
victorious. "We have destroyed Hasdrubal and his army, our
legions are safe, and our consuls are unhurt." Each happy
listener, who caught the welcome sounds from their lips, retired
to communicate his own joy to others, and became himself the
centre of an anxious and inquiring group. When the officers had,
with much difficulty, reached the senate house, and the crowd was
with still greater difficulty put back from entering and mingling
with the Conscript Fathers, the despatches of Livius and Nero
were produced and read aloud. From the senate house the officers
proceeded to the public assembly, where the despatches were read
again; and then the senior officer, Lucius Veturius, gave in his
own words a fuller detail of how went the fight. When he had
done speaking to the people, an universal shout of rapture rent
the air. The vast assembly then separated: some hastening to
the temples to find in devotion a vent for the overflowing
excitement of their hearts; others seeking their homes to gladden
their wives and children with the good news, and to feast their
own eyes with the sight of the loved ones, who now, at last, were
safe from outrage and slaughter. The senate ordained a
thanksgiving of three days for the great deliverance which had
been vouchsafed to Rome; and throughout that period the temples
were incessantly crowded with exulting worshippers; and the
matrons, with their children round them, in their gayest attire,
and with joyous aspects and voices, offered grateful praises to
the immortal gods, as if all apprehension of evil were over, and
the war were already ended.

With the revival of confidence came also the revival of activity

in traffic and commerce, and in all the busy intercourse of daily
life. A numbing load was taken off each heart and brain, and
once more men bought and sold, and formed their plans fleely, as
had been done before the dire Carthaginians came into Italy.
Hannibal was, certainly, still in the land; but all felt that his
power to destroy was broken, and that the crisis of the war-fever
was past. The Metaurus, indeed, had not only determined the
event of the strife between Rome and Carthage, but it had ensured
to Rome two centuries more of almost unchanged conquest.
Hannibal did actually, with almost superhuman skill, retain his
hold on Southern Italy for a few years longer, but the imperial
city, and her allies, were no longer in danger from his arms;
and, after Hannibal's downfall, the great military republic of
the ancient world met in her career of conquest no other worthy
competitor. Byron has termed Nero's march "unequalled," and, in
the magnitude of its consequences, it is so. Viewed only as a
military exploit, it remains unparalleled save by Marlborough's
bold march from Flanders to the Danube, in the campaign of
Blenheim, and perhaps also by the Archduke Charles's lateral
march in 1796, by which he overwhelmed the French under Jourdain,
and then, driving Moreau through the Black Forest and across the
Rhine, for a while freed Germany from her invaders.

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS BETWEEN THE BATTLE OF THE METAURUS, B.C. 207,

AND ARMININIUS'S VICTORY OVER THE ROMAN LEGIONS UNDER VARUS,
A.D. 9.

B.C. 205 to 201. Scipio is made consul, and carries the war into
Africa. He gains several victories there, and the Carthaginians
recall Hannibal from Italy to oppose him. Battle of Zama in 201:
Hannibal is defeated, and Carthage sues for peace. End of the
second Punic war, leaving Rome confirmed in the dominion of
Italy, Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica, and also mistress of great
part of Spain, and virtually predominant in North Africa.

200. Rome makes war upon Philip, king of Macedonia. She

pretends to take the Greek cities of the Achaean league and the
AEtolians under her protection as allies. Philip is defeated by
the proconsul Flaminius at Cynocephalae, 198; and begs for peace.
The Macedonian influence is now completely destroyed in Greece,
and the Roman established in its stead, though Rome nominally
acknowledged the independence of the Greek cities.

194. Rome makes war upon Antiochus, king of Syria. He is

completely defeated at the battle of Magnesia, 192, and is glad
to accept peace on conditions which leave him dependent upon
Rome.

200-190. "Thus, within the short; space of ten years, was laid
the foundation of the Roman authority in the East, and the
general state of affairs entirely changed. If Rome was not yet
the ruler, she was at least the arbitress of the world from the
Atlantic to the Euphrates. The power of the three principal
states was so completely humbled, that they durst not, without
the permission of Rome, begin any new war; the fourth, Egypt, had
already, in the year 201, placed herself under the guardianship
of Rome; and the lesser powers followed of themselves: esteeming
it an honour to be called the allies of Rome. With this name the
nations were lulled into security, and brought under the Roman
yoke; the new political system of Rome was founded and
strengthened partly by exciting and supporting the weaker states
against the stronger, however unjust the cause of the former
might be, and partly by factions which she found means to raise
in every state, even the smallest."--(HEEREN.)

172. War renewed between Macedon and Rome. Decisive defeat of

Perses, the Macedonian king, by Paulus AEmilius at Pydna, 168,
Destruction of the Macedonian monarchy.

150. Rome oppresses the Carthaginians till they are driven to

take up arms, and the third Punic war begins, Carthage is taken
and destroyed by Scipio AEmilianus, 146, and the Carthaginian
territory is made a Roman province.

146. In the same year in which Carthage falls, Corinth is

stormed by the Roman army under Mummius. The Achaean league had
been goaded into hostilities with Rome, by means similar to those
employed against Carthage. The greater part of Southern Greece
is made a Roman province, under the name of Achaia.

133. Numantium is destroyed by Scipio AEmilianus. "The war

against the Spaniards, who, of all the nations subdued by the
Romans, defended their liberty with the greatest obstinacy, began
in the year 200, six years after the total expulsion of the
Carthaginians from their country, 206. It was exceedingly
obstinate, partly from the natural state of the country, which
was thickly populated, and where every place became a fortress;
partly from the courage of the inhabitants; but at last all,
owing to the peculiar policy of the Romans, who yielded to employ
their allies to subdue other nations. This war continued, almost
without interruption, from the year 200 to 133, and was for the
most part carried on at the same time in Hispania Citerior, where
the Celtiberi were the most formidable adversaries, and in
Hispania Ulterior, where the Lusitani were equally powerful.
Hostilities were at the highest pitch in 195, under Cato, who
reduced Hispania Citerior to a state of tranquillity in 185-179,
when the Celtiberi were attacked in their native territory; and
155-150, when the Romans in both provinces were so often beaten,
that nothing was more dreaded by the soldiers at home than to be
sent there. The extortions and perfidy of Servius Galba placed
Viriathus, in the year 146, at the head of his nations, the
Lusitani: the war, however, soon extended itself to Hispania
Citerior, where many nations, particularly the Numantines, took
up arms against Rome, 143. Viriathus, sometimes victorious and
sometimes defeated, was never more formidable than in the moment
of defeat; because he knew how to take advantage of his knowledge
of the country and of the dispositions of his countrymen. After
his murder, caused by the treachery of Saepio, 140, Lusitania was
subdued; but the Numantine war became still more violent, and the
Numantines compelled the consul Mancinus to a disadvantageous
treaty, 137. When Scipio, in the year 133, put an end to this
war, Spain was certainly tranquil; the northern parts, however,
were still unsubdued, though the Romans penetrated as far as
Galatia."--HEEREN.

134. Commencement of the revolutionary century at Rome, I.E.

from the time of the excitement produced by the attempts made by
the Gracchi to reform the commonwealth, to the battle of Actium
(B.C. 31), which established Octavianus Caesar as sole master of
the Roman world. Throughout this period Rome was engaged in
important foreign wars, most of which procured large accessions
to her territory.

118-106. The Jugurthine war. Numidia is conquered, and made a

Roman province.

113-101. The great and terrible war of the Cimbri and Teutones
against Rome. These nations of northern warriors slaughter
several Roman armies in Gaul, and in 102 attempt to penetrate
into Italy, The military genius of Marius here saves his country;
he defeats the Teutones near Aix, in Provence; and in the
following year he destroys the army of the Cimbri, who had passed
the Alps, near Vercellae.

91-88. The war of the Italian allies against Rome. This was
caused by the refusal of Rome to concede to them the rights of
Roman citizenship. After a sanguine struggle, Rome gradually
grants it.

89-86. First war of the Romans against Mithridates the Great,

king of Pontus, who had overrun Asia Minor, Macedonia, and
Greece. Sylla defeats his armies, and forces him to withdraw his
forces from Europe. Sylla returns to Rome to carry on the civil
war against the son and partisans of Marius. He makes himself
Dictator.

74-64. The last Mithridatic wars. Lucullus, and after him

Pompeius, command against the great King of Pontus, who at last
is poisoned by his son, while designing to raise the warlike
tribes of the Danube against Rome, and to invade Italy from the
north-east. Great Asiatic conquests of the Romans. Besides the
ancient province of Pergamus, the maritime countries of Bithynia,
and nearly all Paphlagonia and Pontus, are formed into a Roman
province, under the name of Bithynia; while on the southern coast
Cilicia and Pamphylia form another, under the name of Cilicia;
Phoenicia and Syria compose a third, under the name of Syria. On
the other hand, Great Armenia is left to Tigranes; Cappodocia to
Ariobarzanes; the Bosphorus to Pharnaces; Judaea to Hyrcanus; and
some other small states are also given to petty princes, all of
whom remain dependent on Rome.

58-50. Caesar conquers Gaul.

54. Crassus attacks the Parthians with a Roman army, but is

overthrown and killed at Carrhae in Mesopotamia. His lieutenant
Cassius collects the wrecks of the army, and prevents the
Parthians from conquering Syria.

49-45. The civil war between Caesar and the Pompeian party.
Caesar drives Pompeius out of Italy, conquers his enemy's forces
in Spain, and then passes into Greece, where Pompeius and the
other aristocratic chiefs had assembled a large army. Caesar
gives them a decisive defeat at the great battle of Pharsalia.
Pompeius flies for refuge to Alexandria, where he is
assassinated. Caesar, who had followed him thither, is involved
in a war with the Egyptians, in which he is finally victorious.
The celebrated Cleopatra is made Queen of Egypt. Caesar next
marches into Pontus, and defeats the son of Mithridates, who had
taken part in the war against him. He then proceeds to the Roman
province of Africa, where some of the Pompeian chiefs had
established themselves, aided by Juba, a native prince. He over
throws them at the battle of Thapsus. He is again obliged to
lead an army into Spain, where the sons of Pompeius had collected
the wrecks of their father's party. He crushes the last of his
enemies at the battle of Munda. Under the title of Dictator, he
is the sole master of the Roman world.

44. Caesar is killed in the Senate-house; the Civil wars are

soon renewed, Brutus and Cassius being at the head of the
aristocratic party, and the party of Caesar being led by Mark
Antony and Octavianus Caesar, afterwards Augustus.

42. Defeat and death of Brutus and Cassius at Philippi.

Dissensions soon break out between Octavianus Caesar and Antony.

31. Antony is completely defeated by Octavianus Caesar at

Actium. He flies to Egypt with Cleopatra. Octavianus pursues
him. Antony and Cleopatra kill themselves. Egypt becomes a
Roman province, and Octavianus Caesar is left undisputed master
of Rome, and all that is Rome's. The state of the Roman world at
this time is best described in two lines of Tacitus:--"Postquam
bellatum apud Actium, atque OMNEM POTESTATEM AD UNUM CONFERRI
PACIS INTERFUIT." (Hist. lib. i. s. 1.)

The 44th year of the reign of Augustus, and the 1st year of the
195th Olympiad, is commonly assigned as the date of THE NATIVITY
OF OUR LORD. There is much of the beauty of holiness in the
remarks with which the American historian, Eliot, closes his
survey of the conquering career and civil downfall of the Roman
Commonwealth:--

"So far as humility amongst men was necessary for the preparation
of a truer freedom than could ever be known under heathenism, the
part of Rome, however dreadful was yet sublime. It was not to
unite, to discipline, or to fortify humanity, but to enervate, to
loosen, and to scatter its forces, that the people whose history
we have read were allowed to conquer the earth, and were then
themselves reduced to deep submission. Every good labour of
theirs that failed was, by reason of what we esteem its failure,
a step gained nearer to the end of the well-nigh universal evil
that prevailed; while every bad achievement that may seem to us
to have succeeded, temporarily or lastingly, with them was
equally, by reason of its success, a progress towards the good of
which the coming would have been longed and prayed for, could it
have been comprehended. Alike in the virtues and in the vices of
antiquity, we may read the progress towards its humiliation.
["The Christian revelation," says Leland, in his truly admirable
work on the subject (vol. i. p. 488), "was made to the world at a
time when it was most wanted; when the darkness and corruption of
mankind were arrived at the height. . . . if it had been
published much sooner, and before there had been a full trial
made of what was to be expected from human wisdom and philosophy,
the great need men stood in of such an extraordinary divine
dispensation would not have been so apparent."] Yet, on the
other hand, it must not seem, at the last, that the disposition
of the Romans or of mankind to submission was secured solely
through the errors, and the apparently ineffectual toils which we
have traced back to these times of old. Desires too true to have
been wasted, and strivings too humane to have been unproductive,
though all were overshadowed by passing wrongs, still gleam as if
in anticipation or in preparation of the advancing day.

"At length, when it had been proved by ages of conflict and loss,
that no lasting joy and no abiding truth could be procured
through the power, the freedom, or the faith of mankind, the
angels sang their song in which the glory of God and the good-
will of men were together blended. The universe was wrapped In
momentary tranquillity, and 'peaceful was the night' above the
manger at Bethlehem. We may believe, that when the morning came,
the ignorance, the confusion, and the servitude of humanity had
left their darkest forms amongst the midnight clouds. It was
still, indeed, beyond the power of man to lay hold securely of
the charity and the regeneration that were henceforth to be his
law; and the indefinable terrors of the future, whether seen from
the West or from the East, were not at once to be dispelled. But
before the death of the Emperor Augustus, in the midst of his
fallen subjects, the business of THE FATHER had already been
begun in the Temple at Jerusalem; and near by, THE SON was
increasing in wisdom and in stature, and in favour with God and
man." [Eliot's "Liberty of Rome," vol. ii. p. 521.]
CHAPTER V.

VICTORY OF ARMINIUS OVER THE ROMAN LEGIONS UNDER VARUS, A.D. 9.

"Hac clade factum, ut Imperium quod in littore oceani non

steterat, in ripa Rheni fluminis staret."--FLORUS.

To a truly illustrious Frenchman, whose reverses as a minister

can never obscure his achievements in the world of letters, we
are indebted for the most profound and most eloquent estimate
that we possess of the importance of the Germanic element in
European civilization, and of the extent to which the human race
is indebted to those brave warriors, who long were the
unconquered antagonists, and finally became the conquerors, of
Imperial Rome.

Twenty-three eventful years have passed away since M. Guizot

delivered from the chair of modern history at Paris his course of
lectures on the History of Civilization in Europe. During those
years the spirit of earnest inquiry into the germs and early
developments of existing institutions has become more and more
active and universal; and the merited celebrity of M. Guizot's
work has proportionally increased. Its admirable analysis of the
complex political and social organizations of which the modern
civilized world is made up, must have led thousands to trace with
keener interest the great crises of times past, by which the
characteristics of the present were determined. The narrative of
one of these great crises, of the epoch A.D. 9, when Germany took
up arms for her independence against Roman invasion, has for us
this special attraction--that it forms part of our own national
history. Had Arminius been supine or unsuccessful, our Germanic
ancestors would have been enslaved or exterminated in their
original seats along the Eyder and the Elbe; this island would
never have borne the name of England, and "we, this great English
nation, whose race and language are now over-running the earth,
from one end of it to the other," [Arnold's Lectures on Modern
History.] would have been utterly cut off from existence.

Arnold may, indeed, go too far in holding that we are wholly

unconnected in race with the Romans and Britons who inhabited
this country before the coming over of the Saxons; that,
"nationally speaking, the history of Caesar's invasion has no
more to do with us than the natural history of the animals which
then inhabited our forests." There seems ample evidence to prove
that the Romanized Celts, whom our Teutonic forefathers found
here, influenced materially the character of our nation. But the
main stream of our people was and is Germanic. Our language
alone decisively proves this. Arminius is far more truly one of
our national heroes than Caractacus: and it was our own primeval
fatherland that the brave German rescued, when he slaughtered the
Roman legions eighteen centuries ago in the marshy glens between
the Lippe and the Ems. [See post, remarks on the relationship
between the Cherusci and the English.]

Dark and disheartening, even to heroic spirits, must have seemed

the prospects of Germany when Arminius planned the general rising
of his countrymen against Rome. Half the land was occupied by
Roman garrisons; and, what was worse, many of the Germans seemed
patiently acquiescent in their state of bondage. The braver
portion, whose patriotism could be relied on, was ill-armed and
undisciplined; while the enemy's troops consisted of veterans in
the highest state of equipment and training, familiarized with
victory, and commanded by officers of proved skill and valour.
The resources of Rome seemed boundless; her tenacity of purpose
was believed to be invincible. There was no hope of foreign
sympathy or aid; for "the self-governing powers that had filled
the old world, had bent one after another before the rising power
of Rome, and had vanished. The earth seemed left void of
independent nations." [Ranke.]

The (German) chieftain knew well the gigantic power of the

oppressor. Arminius was no rude savage, fighting out of mere
animal instinct, or in ignorance of the might of his adversary.
He was familiar with the Roman language and civilization; he had
served in the Roman armies; he had been admitted to the Roman
citizenship, and raised to the dignity of the equestrian order.
It was part of the subtle policy of Rome to confer rank and
privileges on the youth of the leading families in the nations
which she wished to enslave. Among other young German
chieftains, Arminius and his brother, who were the heads of the
noblest house in the tribe of the Cherusci, had been selected as
fit objects for the exercise of this insidious system. Roman
refinements and dignities succeeded in denationalizing the
brother, who assumed the Roman name of Flavius, and adhered to
Rome throughout all her wars against his country. Arminius
remained unbought by honours or wealth, uncorrupted by refinement
or luxury. He aspired to and obtained from Roman enmity a higher
title than ever could have been given him by Roman favour. It is
in the page of Rome's greatest historian, that his name has come
down to us with the proud addition of "Liberator haud dubie
Germaniae." [Tacitus, Annals, ii. 88.]

Often must the young chieftain, while meditating the exploit

which has thus immortalised him, have anxiously revolved in his
mind the fate of the many great men who had been crushed in the
attempt which he was about to renew,--the attempt to stay the
chariot-wheels of triumphant Rome. Could he hope to succeed
where Hannibal and Mithridates had perished? What had been the
doom of Viriathus? and what warning against vain valour was
written on the desolate site where Numantia once had fourished?
Nor was a caution wanting in scenes nearer home and in more
recent times. The Gauls had fruitlessly struggled for eight
years against Caesar; and the valiant Vercingetorix, who in the
last year of the war had roused all his countrymen to
insurrection, who had cut off Roman detachments, and brought
Caesar himself to the extreme of peril at Alesia--he, too, had
finally succumbed, had been led captive in Caesar's triumph, and
had then been butchered in cold blood in a Roman dungeon.

It was true that Rome was no longer the great military republic
which for so many ages had shattered the kingdoms of the world.
Her system of government was changed; and, after a century of
revolution and civil war, she had placed herself under the
despotism of a single ruler. But the discipline of her troops
was yet unimpaired, and her warlike spirit seemed unabated. The
first wars of the empire had been signalised by conquests as
valuable as any gained by the republic in a corresponding period.
It is a great fallacy, though apparently sanctioned by great
authorities, to suppose that the foreign policy pursued by
Augustus was pacific. He certainly recommended such a policy to
his successors, either from timidity, or from jealousy of their
fame outshining his own; ["Incertum metu an per invidiam."--Tac.
Ann. i. 11] but he himself, until Arminius broke his spirit, had
followed a very different course. Besides his Spanish wars, his
generals, in a series of principally aggressive campaigns, had
extended the Roman frontier from the Alps to the Danube; and had
reduced into subjection the large and important countries that
now form the territories of all Austria south of that river, and
of East Switzerland, Lower Wirtemberg, Bavaria, the Valteline,
and the Tyrol. While the progress of the Roman arms thus pressed
the Germans from the south, still more formidable inroads had
been made by the Imperial legions in the west. Roman armies,
moving from the province of Gaul, established a chain of
fortresses along the right as well as the left bank of the Rhine,
and, in a series of victorious campaigns, advanced their eagles
as far as the Elbe; which now seemed added to the list of vassal
rivers, to the Nile, the Rhine, the Rhone, the Danube, the Tagus,
the Seine, and many more, that acknowledged the supremacy of the
Tiber. Roman fleets also, sailing from the harbours of Gaul
along the German coasts, and up the estuaries, co-operated with
the land-forces of the empire; and seemed to display, even more
decisively than her armies, her overwhelming superiority over the
rude Germanic tribes. Throughout the territory thus invaded, the
Romans had, with their usual military skill, established chains
of fortified posts; and a powerful army of occupation was kept on
foot, ready to move instantly on any spot where a popular
outbreak might be attempted.

Vast however, and admirably organized as the fabric of Roman

power appeared on the frontiers and in the provinces, there was
rottenness at the core. In Rome's unceasing hostilities with
foreign foes, and, still more, in her long series of desolating
civil wars, the free middle classes of Italy had almost wholly
disappeared. Above the position which they had occupied, an
oligarchy of wealth had reared itself: beneath that position a
degraded mass of poverty and misery was fermenting. Slaves, the
chance sweepings of every conquered country, shoals of Africans,
Sardinians, Asiatics, Illyrians, and others, made up the bulk of
the population of the Italian peninsula. The foulest profligacy
of manners was general in all ranks. In universal weariness of
revolution and civil war, and in consciousness of being too
debased for self-government, the nation had submitted itself to
the absolute authority of Augustus. Adulation was now the chief
function the senate: and the gifts of genius and accomplishments
of art were devoted to the elaboration of eloquently false
panegyrics upon the prince and his favourite courtiers. With
bitter indignation must the German chieftain have beheld all
this, and contrasted with it the rough worth of his own
countrymen;--their bravery, their fidelity to their word, their
manly independence of spirit their love of their national free
institutions, and their loathing of every pollution and meanness.
Above all, he must have thought of the domestic virtues that
hallowed a German home; of the respect there shown to the female
character, and of the pure affection by which that respect was
repaid. His soul must have burned within him at the
contemplation of such a race yielding to these debased Italians.

Still, to persuade the Germans to combine, in spite of their

frequent feuds among themselves, in one sudden outbreak against
Rome; to keep the scheme concealed from the Romans until the hour
for action had arrived; and then, without possessing a single
walled town, without military stores, without training, to teach
his insurgent countrymen to defeat veteran armies, and storm
fortifications, seemed so perilous an enterprise, that probably
Arminius would have receded from it, had not a stronger feeling
even than patriotism urged him on. Among the Germans of high
rank who had most readily submitted to the invaders, and become
zealous partisans of Roman authority, was a chieftain named
Segestes. His daughter, Thusnelda, was pre-eminent among the
noble maidens of Germany. Arminius had sought her hand in
marriage; but Segestes, who probably discerned the young chief's
disaffection to Rome, forbade his suit, and strove to preclude
all communication between him and his daughter. Thusnelda,
however, sympathised far more with the heroic spirit of her
lover, than with the time serving policy of her father. An
elopement baffled the precautions of Segestes; who, disappointed
in his hope of preventing the marriage, accused Arminius, before
the Roman governor, of having carried off his daughter, and of
planning treason against Rome. Thus assailed, and dreading to
see his bride torn from him by the officials of the foreign
oppressor, Arminius delayed no longer, but bent all his energies
to organize and execute a general insurrection of the great mass
of his countrymen, who hitherto had submitted in sullen inertness
to the Roman dominion.

A change of governors had recently taken place, which, while it

materially favoured the ultimate success of the insurgents,
served, by the immediate aggravation of the Roman oppressions
which it produced, to make the native population more universally
eager to take arms. Tiberius, who was afterwards emperor, had
lately been recalled from the command in Germany, and sent into
Pannonia to put down a dangerous revolt which had broken out
against the Romans in that province. The German patriots were
thus delivered from the stern supervision of one of the most
auspicious of mankind, and were also relieved from having to
contend against the high military talents of a veteran commander,
who thoroughly understood their national character, and the
nature of the country, which he himself had principally subdued.
In the room of Tiberius, Augustus sent into Germany Quintilius
Varus, who had lately returned from the proconsulate of Syria.
Varus was a true representative of the higher classes of the
Romans; among whom a general taste for literature, a keen
susceptibility to all intellectual gratifications, a minute
acquaintance with the principles and practice of their own
national jurisprudence, a careful training in the schools of the
rhetoricians, and a fondness for either partaking in or watching
the intellectual strife of forensic oratory, had become generally
diffused; without, however, having humanized the old Roman spirit
of cruel indifference for human feelings and human sufferings,
and without acting as the least check on unprincipled avarice and
ambition, or on habitual and gross profligacy. Accustomed to
govern the depraved and debased natives of Syria, a country where
courage in man, and virtue in woman, had for centuries been
unknown, Varus thought that he might gratify his licentious and
rapacious passions with equal impunity among the high-minded sons
and pure-spirited daughters of Germany. When the general of an
army sets the example of outrages of this description, he is soon
faithfully imitated by his officers, and surpassed by his still
more brutal soldiery. The Romans now habitually indulged in
those violations of the sanctity of the domestic shrine, and
those insults upon honour and modesty, by which far less gallant
spirits than those of our Teutonic ancestors have often been
maddened into insurrection.

[I cannot forbear quoting Macaulay's beautiful lines, where he

describes how similar outrages in the early times of Rome goaded
the plebeians to rise against the patricians:--

"Heap heavier still the fetters; bar closer still the grate;
Patient as sheep we yield us up unto your cruel hate.
But by the shades beneath us, and by the gods above,
Add not unto your cruel hate your still more cruel love.
* * * * * *
Then leave the poor plebeian his single tie to life--
The sweet, sweet love of daughter, of sister, and of wife,
The gentle speech, the balm for all that his vext soul endures,
The kiss in which he half forgets even such a yoke as yours.
Still let the maiden's beauty swell the father's breast with
pride;
Still let the bridegroom's arms enfold an unpolluted bride.
Spare us the inexpiable wrong, the unutterable shame,
That turns the coward's heart to steel, the sluggard's blood to
flame;
Lest when our latest hope is fled ye taste of our despair,
And learn by proof in some wild hour, how much the wretched
dare."]

Arminius found among the other German chiefs many who sympathised
with him in his indignation at their country's debasement, and
many whom private wrongs had stung yet more deeply. There was
little difficulty in collecting bold leaders for an attack on the
oppressors, and little fear of the population not rising readily
at those leaders' call. But to declare open war against Rome,
and to encounter Varus's army in a pitched battle, would have
been merely rushing upon certain destruction. Varus had three
legions under him, a force which, after allowing for detachments,
cannot be estimated at less than fourteen thousand Roman
infantry. He had also eight or nine hundred Roman cavalry, and
at least an equal number of horse and foot sent from the allied
states, or raised among those provincials who had not received
the Roman franchise.

It was not merely the number, but the quality of this force that
made it formidable; and however contemptible Varus might be as a
general, Arminius well knew how admirably the Roman armies were
organized and officered, and how perfectly the legionaries
understood every manoeuvre and every duty which the varying
emergencies of a stricken field might require. Stratagem was,
therefore, indispensable; and it was necessary to blind Varus to
his schemes until a favourable opportunity should arrive for
striking a decisive blow.

For this purpose the German confederates frequented the

headquarters of Varus, which seem to have been near the centre of
the modern country of Westphalia, where the Roman general
conducted himself with all the arrogant security of the governor
of a perfectly submissive province. There Varus gratified at
once his vanity, his rhetorical taste, and his avarice, by
holding courts, to which he summoned the Germans for the
settlement of all their disputes, while a bar of Roman advocates
attended to argue the cases before the tribunal of the Proconsul;
who did not omit the opportunity of exacting court-fees and
accepting bribes. Varus trusted implicitly to the respect which
the Germans pretended to pay to his abilities as a judge, and to
the interest which they affected to take in the forensic
eloquence of their conquerors. Meanwhile a succession of heavy
rains rendered the country more difficult for the operations of
regular troops; and Arminius, seeing that the infatuation of
Varus was complete, secretly directed the tribes near the Weser
and the Ems to take up arms in open revolt against the Romans.
This was represented to Varus as an occasion which required his
prompt attendance at the spot; but he was kept in studied
ignorance of its being part of a concerted national rising; and
he still looked on Arminius as his submissive vassal, whose aid
he might rely on in facilitating the march of his troops against
the rebels, and in extinguishing the local disturbance. He
therefore set his army in motion, and marched eastward in a line
parallel to the course of the Lippe. For some distance his route
lay along a level plain; but on arriving at the tract between the
curve of the upper part of that stream and the sources of the
Ems, the country assumes a very different character; and here, in
the territory of the modern little principality of Lippe, it was
that Arminius had fixed the scene of his enterprise.

A woody and hilly region intervenes between the heads of the two
rivers, and forms the water-shed of their streams. This region
still retains the name (Teutoberger wald--Teutobergiensis saltus)
which it bore in the days of Arminius. The nature of the ground
has probably also remained unaltered. The eastern part of it,
round Detmoldt, the present capital of the principality of Lippe,
is described by a modern German scholar, Dr. Plate, as being "a
table-land intersected by numerous deep and narrow valleys, which
in some places form small plains, surrounded by steep mountains
and rocks, and only accessible by narrow defiles. All the
valleys are traversed by rapid streams, shallow in the dry
season, but subject to sudden swellings in autumn and winter.
The vast forests which cover the summits and slopes of the hills
consist chiefly of oak; there is little underwood, and both men
and horse would move with ease in the forests if the ground were
not broken by gulleys, or rendered impracticable by fallen
trees." This is the district to which Varus is supposed to have
marched; and Dr. Plate adds, that "the names of several
localities on and near that spot seem to indicate that a great
battle had once been fought there. We find the names 'das
Winnefeld' (the field of victory), 'die Knochenbahn' (the bone-
lane), 'die Knochenleke' (the bone-brook), 'der Mordkessel' (the
kettle of slaughter), and others." [I am indebted for much
valuable information on this subject to my friend Mr. Henry
Pearson.]

Contrary to the usual strict principles of Roman discipline,

Varus had suffered his army to be accompanied and impeded by an
immense train of baggage-waggons, and by a rabble of camp
followers; as if his troops had been merely changing their
quarters in a friendly country. When the long array quitted the
firm level ground, and began to wind its way among the woods, the
marshes, and the ravines, the difficulties of the march, even
without the intervention of an armed foe, became fearfully
apparent. In many places the soil, sodden with rain, was
impracticable for cavalry and even for infantry, until trees had
been felled, and a rude causeway formed through the morass.

The duties of the engineer were familiar to all who served in the
Roman armies. But the crowd and confusion of the columns
embarrassed the working parties of the soldiery, and in the midst
of their toil and disorder the word was suddenly passed through
their ranks that the rear-guard was attacked by the barbarians.
Varus resolved on pressing forward; but a heavy discharge of
missiles from the woods on either flank taught him how serious
was the peril, and he saw the best men falling round him without
the opportunity of retaliation; for his light-armed auxiliaries,
who were principally of Germanic race, now rapidly deserted, and
it was impossible to deploy the legionaries on such broken ground
for a charge against the enemy. Choosing one of the most open
and firm spots which they could force their way to, the Romans
halted for the night; and, faithful to their national discipline
and tactics, formed their camp amid the harassing attacks of the
rapidly thronging foes, with the elaborate toil and systematic
skill, the traces of which are impressed permanently on the soil
of so many European countries, attesting the presence in the
olden time of the imperial eagles.

On the morrow the Romans renewed their march; the veteran

officers who served under Varus now probably directing the
operations, and hoping to find the Germans drawn up to meet them;
in which case they relied on their own superior discipline and
tactics for such a victory as should reassure the supremacy of
Rome. But Arminius was far too sage a commander to lead on his
followers, with their unwieldy broadswords and inefficient
defensive armour, against the Roman legionaries, fully armed with
helmet, cuirass, greaves, and shield; who were skilled to
commence the conflict with a murderous volley of heavy javelins,
hurled upon the foe when a few yards distant, and then, with
their short cut-and-thrust swords, to hew their way through all
opposition; preserving the utmost steadiness and coolness, and
obeying each word of command. In the midst of strife and
slaughter with the same precision and alertness as if upon
parade. [See Gibbon's description (vol. i, chap. 1) of the Roman
legions in the time of Augustus; and see the description in
Tacitus (Ann. lib. i) of the subsequent battles between Caecina
and Arminius.] Arminius suffered the Romans to march out from
their camp, to form first in line for action, and then in column
for marching, without the show of opposition. For some distance
Varus was allowed to move on, only harassed by slight skirmishes,
but struggling with difficulty through the broken ground; the
toil and distress of his men being aggravated by heavy torrents
of rain, which burst upon the devoted legions as if the angry
gods of Germany were pouring out the vials of their wrath upon
the invaders. After some little time their van approached a
ridge of high woody ground, which is one of the off-shoots of the
great Hercynian forest, and is situate between the modern
villages of Driburg and Bielefeld. Arminius had caused
barricades of hewn trees to be formed here, so as to add to the
natural difficulties of the passage. Fatigue and discouragement
now began to betray themselves in the Roman ranks. Their line
became less steady; baggage-waggons were abandoned from the
impossibility of forcing them along; and, as this happened, many
soldiers left their ranks and crowded round the waggons to secure
the most valuable portions of their property; each was busy about
his own affairs, and purposely slow in hearing the word of
command from his officers. Arminius now gave the signal for a
general attack. The fierce shouts of the Germans pealed through
the gloom of the forests, and in thronging multitudes they
assailed the flanks of the invaders, pouring in clouds of darts
on the encumbered legionaries, as they struggled up the glens or
floundered in the morasses, and watching every opportunity of
charging through the intervals of the disjointed column, and so
cutting off the communication between its several brigades.
Arminius, with a chosen band of personal retainers round him,
cheered on his countrymen by voice and example. He and his men
aimed their weapons particularly at the horses of the Roman
cavalry. The wounded animals, slipping about in the mire and
their own blood, threw their riders, and plunged among the ranks
of the legions, disordering all round them. Varus now ordered
the troops to be countermarched, in the hope of reaching the
nearest Roman garrison on the Lippe. [The circumstances of the
early part of the battle which Arminius fought with Caecina six
years afterwards, evidently resembled those of his battle with
Varus, and the result was very near being the same: I have
therefore adopted part of the description which Tacitus gives
(Ann. lib. i. c. 65) of the last mentioned engagement: "Neque
tamen Arminius, quamquam libero in cursu, statim prorupit: sed
ut haesere caeno fossisque impedimenta, turbati circum milites;
incertus signorum ordo; utque tali in tempore sibi quisque
properus, et lentae adversum imperia aures, irrumpere Germanos
jubet, clamitans 'En Varus, et eodem iterum fato victae
legiones!' Simul haec, et cum delectis scindit agmen, equisque
maxime vulnera ingerit; illi sanguine suo et lubrico paludum
lapsantes, excussis rectoribus, disjicere obvios, proterere
jacentes."] But retreat now was as impracticable as advance; and
the falling back of the Romans only augmented the courage of
their assailants, and caused fiercer and more frequent charges on
the flanks of the disheartened army. The Roman officer who
commanded the cavalry, Numonius Vala, rode off with his
squadrons, in the vain hope of escaping by thus abandoning his
comrades. Unable to keep together, or force their way across the
woods and swamps, the horsemen were overpowered in detail and
slaughtered to the last man. The Roman infantry still held
together and resisted, but more through the instinct of
discipline and bravery than from any hope of success or escape.
Varus, after being severely wounded in a charge of the Germans
against his part of the column, committed suicide to avoid
falling into the hands of those whom he had exasperated by his
oppressions. One of the lieutenant-generals of the army fell
fighting; the other surrendered to the enemy. But mercy to a
fallen foe had never been a Roman virtue, and those among her
legions who now laid down their arms in hope of quarter, drank
deep of the cup of suffering, which Rome had held to the lips of
many a brave but unfortunate enemy. The infuriated Germans
slaughtered their oppressors with deliberate ferocity; and those
prisoners who were not hewn to pieces on the spot, were only
preserved to perish by a more cruel death in cold blood.

The bulk of the Roman army fought steadily and stubbornly,

frequently repelling the masses of the assailants, but gradually
losing the compactness of their array, and becoming weaker and
weaker beneath the incessant shower of darts and the reiterated
assaults of the vigorous and unencumbered Germans. At last, in a
series of desperate attacks the column was pierced through and
through, two of the eagles captured, and the Roman host, which on
the yester morning had marched forth in such pride and might, now
broken up into confused fragments, either fell fighting beneath
the overpowering numbers of the enemy, or perished in the swamps
and woods in unavailing efforts at flight. Few, very few, ever
saw again the left bank of the Rhine. One body of brave
veterans, arraying themselves in a ring on a little mound, beat
off every charge of the Germans, and prolonged their honourable
resistance to the close of that dreadful day. The traces of a
feeble attempt at forming a ditch and mound attested in after
years the spot where the last of the Romans passed their night of
suffering and despair. But on the morrow this remnant also, worn
out with hunger, wounds, and toil, was charged by the victorious
Germans, and either massacred on the spot, or offered up in
fearful rites at the alters of the deities of the old mythology
of the North.

A gorge in the mountain ridge, through which runs the modern road
between Paderborn and Pyrmont, leads from the spot where the heat
of the battle raged, to the Extersteine, a cluster of bold and
grotesque rocks of sandstone; near which is a small sheet of
water, overshadowed by a grove of aged trees. According to local
tradition, this was one of the sacred groves of the ancient
Germans, and it was here that the Roman captives were slain in
sacrifice by the victorious warriors of Arminius. ["Lucis
propinquis barbarae arae, apud quas tribunos ac primorum ordinam
centuriones mactaverant."--TACITUS, Ann. lib. i. c. 61.]

Never was victory more decisive, never was the liberation of an

oppressed people more instantaneous and complete. Throughout
Germany the Roman garrisons were assailed and cut off; and,
within a few weeks after Varus had fallen, the German soil was
freed from the foot of an invader.

At Rome, the tidings of the battle was received with an agony of

terror, the descriptions of which we should deem exaggerated, did
they not come from Roman historians themselves. These passages
in the Roman writers not only tell emphatically how great was the
awe which the Romans felt of the prowess of the Germans, if their
various tribes could be brought to reunite for a common purpose,
but also they reveal bow weakened and debased the population of
Italy had become. [It is clear that the Romans followed the
policy of fomenting dissension and wars of the Germans among
themselves. See the thirty-third section of the "Germania" of
Tacitus, where he mentions the destruction of the Bructeri by the
neighbouring tribes: "Favore quodam erga nos deorum: nam ne
spectaculo quidem proelii invidere: super LX. millia non armis
telisque Romanis, sed, quod magnificentius est, oblectationi
oculisque ceciderunt. Maneat quaeso, duretque gentibus, si non
amor nostri at certe odium sui quando urgentibus imperii fatis,
nihil jam praestare fortuna majus potes quam hostiam
discordiam."] Dion Cassius says: [Lib. lvi. sec. 23.] "Then
Augustus, when he heard the calamity of Varus, rent his garments,
and was in great affliction for the troops he had lost, and for
terror respecting the Germans and the Gauls. And his chief alarm
was, that he expected them to push on against Italy and Rome:
and there remained no Roman youth fit for military duty, that
were worth speaking of, and the allied populations that were at
all serviceable had been wasted away. Yet he prepared for the
emergency as well as his means allowed; and when none of the
citizens of military age were willing to enlist he made them cast
lots, and punished by confiscation of goods and disfranchisement
every fifth man among those under thirty-five, and every tenth
man of those above that age. At last, when he found that not
even thus; could he make many come forward, he put some of them
to death. So he made a conscription of discharged veterans and
emancipated slaves, and collecting as large a force as he could,
sent it, under Tiberius, with all speed into Germany."

Dion mentions, also, a number of terrific portents that were

believed to have occurred at the time; and the narration of which
is not immaterial, as it shows the state of the public mind, when
such things were so believed in, and so interpreted. The summits
of the Alps were said to have fallen, and three columns of fire
to have blazed up from them. In the Campus Martius, the temple
of the War-God, from whom the founder of Rome had sprung, was
struck by a thunderbolt. The nightly heavens glowed several
times, as if on fire. Many comets blazed forth together; and
fiery meteors shaped like spears, had shot from the northern
quarter of the sky, down into the Roman camps. It was said, too,
that a statue of Victory, which had stood at a place on the
frontier, pointing the way towards Germany, had of its own accord
turned round, and now pointed to Italy. These and other
prodigies were believed by the multitude to accompany the
slaughter of Varus's legions, and to manifest the anger of the
gods against Rome, Augustus himself was not free from
superstition; but on this occasion no supernatural terrors were
needed to increase the alarm and grief that he felt; and which
made him, even for months after the news of the battle had
arrived, often beat his head against the wall, and exclaim,
"Quintilius Varus, give me back my legions!" We learn this from
his biographer, Suetonius; and, indeed, every ancient writer who
alludes to the overthrow of Varus, attests the importance of the
blow against the Roman power, and the bitterness with which it
was felt. [Florus expresses its effect most pithily: "Hac clade
factum est ut imperium quod in litore oceani non steterat, in
ripa Rheni fluminis staret" (iv. 12).]

The Germans did not pursue their victory beyond their own
territory. But that victory secured at once and for ever the
independence of the Teutonic race. Rome sent, indeed, her
legions again into Germany, to parade a temporary superiority;
but all hopes of permanent conquest were abandoned by Augustus
and his successors.

The blow which Arminius had struck never was forgotten, Roman
fear disguised itself under the specious title of moderation; and
the Rhine became the acknowledged boundary of the two nations
until the fifth century of our era, when the Germans became the
assailants, and carved with their conquering swords the provinces
of Imperial Rome into the kingdoms of modern Europe.

ARMINIUS.

I have said above that the great Cheruscan is more truly one of
our national heroes than Caractacus is. It may be added that an
Englishman is entitled to claim a closer degree of relationship
with Arminius than can be claimed by any German of modern
Germany. The proof of this depends on the proof of four facts:
first, that the Cherusci were Old Saxons, or Saxons of the
interior of Germany; secondly, that the Anglo-Saxons, or Saxons
of the coast of Germany, were more closely akin than other German
tribes were to the Cheruscan Saxons; thirdly, that the Old Saxons
were almost exterminated by Charlemagne; fourthly, that the
Anglo-Saxons are our immediate ancestors. The last of these may
be assumed as an axiom in English history. The proofs of the
other three are partly philological, and partly historical. I
have not space to go into them here, but they will be found in
the early chapters of the great work of Dr. Robert Gordon Latham
on the "English Language;" and in the notes to his edition of the
"Germania of Tacitus." It may be, however, here remarked that
the present Saxons of Germany are of the High Germanic division
of the German race, whereas both the Anglo-Saxon and Old Saxon
were of the Low Germanic.

Being thus the nearest heirs of the glory of Arminius, we may

fairly devote more attention to his career than, in such a work
as the present, could be allowed to any individual leader. and
it is interesting to trace how far his fame survived during the
middle ages, both among the Germans of the Continent and among
ourselves.

It seems probable that the jealousy with which Maraboduus, the

king of the Suevi and Marcomanni, regarded Arminius, and which
ultimately broke out into open hostilities between those German
tribes and the Cherusci, prevented Arminius from leading the
confederate Germans to attack Italy after his first victory.
Perhaps he may have had the rare moderation of being content with
the liberation of his country, without seeking to retaliate on
her former oppressors. When Tiberius marched into Germany in the
year 10, Arminius was too cautious to attack him on ground
favourable to the legions, and Tiberius was too skilful, to
entangle his troops in difficult parts of the country. His march
and counter-march were as unresisted as they were unproductive.
A few years later, when a dangerous revolt of the Roman legions
near the frontier caused their generals to find them active
employment by leading them into the interior of Germany, we find
Arminius again energetic in his country's defence. The old
quarrel between him and his father-in-law, Segestes, had broken
out afresh. Segestes now called in the aid of the Roman general,
Germanicus, to whom he surrendered himself; and by his
contrivance his daughter Thusnelda, the wife of Arminius, also
came into the hands of the Romans, being far advanced in
pregnancy. She showed, as Tacitus relates, [Ann. i. 57.] more
of the spirit of her husband than of her father, a spirit that
could not be subdued into tears or supplications. She was sent
to Ravenna, and there gave birth to a son, whose life we find,
from an allusion in Tacitus, to have been eventful and unhappy;
but the part of the great historian's work which narrated his
fate has perished, and we only know from another quarter that the
son of Arminius was, at the age of four years, led captive in a
triumphal pageant along the streets of Rome.

The high spirit of Arminius was goaded almost into frenzy by

these bereavements. The fate of his wife, thus torn from him,
and of his babe doomed to bondage even before its birth, inflamed
the eloquent invectives with which he roused his countrymen
against the home traitors, and against their invaders, who thus
made war upon women and children. Germanicus had marched his
army to the place where Varus had perished, and had there paid
funeral honours to the ghastly relics of his predecessor's
legions that he found heaped around him. [In the Museum of
Rhenish antiquities at Bonn there is a Roman sepulchral monument,
the inscription on which records that it was erected to the
memory of M. Coelius, who fell "BELLO VARIANO."] Arminius lured
him to advance a little further into the country, and then
assailed him, and fought a battle, which, by the Roman accounts,
was a drawn one. The effect of it was to make Germanicus resolve
on retreating to the Rhine. He himself, with part of his troops,
embarked in some vessels on the Ems, and returned by that river,
and then by sea; but part of his forces were entrusted to a Roman
general, named Caecina, to lead them back by land to the Rhine.
Arminius followed this division on its march, and fought several
battles with it, in which he inflicted heavy loss on the Romans,
captured the greater part of their baggage, and would have
destroyed them completely, had not his skilful system of
operations been finally thwarted by the haste of Inguiomerus, a
confederate German chief who insisted on assaulting the Romans in
their camp, instead of waiting till they were entangled in the
difficulties of the country, and assailing their columns on the
march.

In the following year the Romans were inactive; but in the year
afterwards Germanicus led a fresh invasion. He placed his army
on ship-board, and sailed to the mouth of the Ems, where he
disembarked, and marched to the Weser, where he encamped,
probably in the neighbourhood of Minden. Arminius had collected
his army on the other side of the river; and a scene occurred,
which is powerfully told by Tacitus, and which is the subject of
a beautiful poem by Praed. It has been already mentioned that
the brother of Arminius, like himself, had been trained up, while
young, to serve in the Roman armies; but, unlike Arminius, he not
only refused to quit the Roman service for that of his country,
but fought against his country with the legions of Germanicus.
He had assumed the Roman name of Flavius, and had gained
considerable distinction in the Roman service, in which he had
lost an eye from a wound in battle. When the Roman outposts
approached the river Weser, Arminius called out to them from the
opposite bank, and expressed a wish to see his brother. Flavius
stepped forward, and Arminius ordered his own followers to
retire, and requested that the archers should be removed from the
Roman bank of the river. This was done: and the brothers, who
apparently had not seen each other for some years, began a
conversation from the opposite sides of the stream, in which
Arminius questioned his brother respecting the loss of his eye,
and what battle it had been lost in, and what reward he had
received for his wound. Flavius told him how the eye was
destroyed, and mentioned the increased pay that he had on account
of its loss, and showed the collar and other military decorations
that had been given him. Arminius mocked at these as badges of
slavery; and then each began to try to win the other over;
Flavius boasting the power of Rome, and her generosity to the
submissive; Arminius appealing to him in the name of their
country's gods, of the mother that had borne them, and by the
holy names of fatherland and freedom, not to prefer being the
betrayer to being the champion of his country. They soon
proceeded to mutual taunts and menaces, and Flavius called aloud
for his horse and his arms, that he might dash across the river
and attack his brother; nor would he have been checked from doing
so, had not the Roman general, Stertinius, run up to him, and
forcibly detained him. Arminius stood on the other bank,
threatening the renegade, and defying him to battle.

I shall not be thought to need apology for quoting here the

stanzas in which Praed has described this scene--a scene among
the most affecting, as well as the most striking, that history
supplies. It makes us reflect on the desolate position of
Arminius, with his wife and child captives in the enemy's hands,
and with his brother a renegade in arms against him. The great
liberator of our German race stood there, with every source of
human happiness denied him, except the consciousness of doing his
duty to his country.

"Back, back! he fears not foaming flood

Who fears not steel-clad line:--
No warrior thou of German blood,
No brother thou of mine.
Go, earn Rome's chain to load thy neck,
Her gems to deck thy hilt;
And blazon honour's hapless wreck
With all the gauds of guilt.

"But wouldst thou have ME share the prey?

By all that I have done,--
The Varian bones that day by day
Lie whitening in the sun,
The legion's trampled panoply,
The eagle's shattered wing,--
I would not be for earth or sky
So scorn'd and mean a thing.

"Ho, call me here the wizard, boy,

Of dark and subtle skill,
To agonise but not destroy,
 To curse, but not to kill.
When swords are out, and shriek and shout,
Leave little room for prayer,
No fetter on man's arm or heart
Hangs half so heavy there.

"I curse him by the gifts the land

Hath won from him and Rome--
The riving axe, the wasting brand,
Rent forest, blazing home.
I curse him by our country's gods,
The terrible, the dark,
The breakers of the Roman rods,
The smiters of the bark.

"Oh misery, that such a ban

On such a brow should be!
Why comes he not in battle's van
His country's chief to be?--
To stand a comrade by my side,
The sharer of my fame,
And worthy of a brother's pride
And of a brother's name?

"But it is past!--where heroes press

And cowards bend the knee
Arminius is not brotherless;
His brethren are the free.
They come around: one hour, and light
Will fade from turf and tide,
Then onward, onward to the fight
With darkness for our guide.

"To-night, to-night, when we shall meet

In combat face to face,
Then only would Arminius greet
The renegade's embrace.
The canker of Rome's guilt shall be
Upon his dying name;
And as he lived in slavery,
So shall he fall in shame.

On the day after the Romans had reached the Weser, Germanicus led
his army across that river, and a partial encounter took place,
in which Arminius was successful. But on the succeeding day a
general action was fought, in which Arminius was severely
wounded, and the German infantry routed with heavy loss. The
horsemen of the two armies encountered without either party
gaining the advantage. But the Roman army remained master of the
ground, and claimed a complete victory. Germanicus erected a
trophy in the field, with a vaunting inscription, that the
nations between the Rhine and the Elbe had been thoroughly
conquered by his army. But that army speedily made a final
retreat to the left bank of the Rhine; nor was the effect of
their campaign more durable than their trophy. The sarcasm with
which Tacitus speaks of certain other triumphs of Roman generals
over Germans, may apply to the pageant which Germanicus
celebrated on his return to Rome from his command of the Roman
army of the Rhine. The Germans were "TRIUMPHATI POTIUS QUAM
VICTI."

After the Romans had abandoned their attempts on Germany, we find

Arminius engaged in hostilities with Maroboduus, the king of the
Suevi and Marcomanni who was endeavouring to bring the other
German tribes into a state of dependency on him. Arminius was at
the head of the Germans who took up arms against this home
invader of their liberties. After some minor engagements, a
pitched battle was fought between the two confederacies, A.D. 16,
in which the loss on each side was equal; but Maroboduus
confessed the ascendency of his antagonist by avoiding a renewal
of the engagement, and by imploring the intervention of the
Romans in his defence. The younger Drusus then commanded the
Roman legions in the province of Illyricum, and by his mediation
a peace was concluded between Arminius and Maroboduus, by the
terms of which it is evident that the latter must have renounced
his ambitious schemes against the freedom of the other German
tribes.

Arminius did not long survive this second war of independence,

which he successfully waged for his country. He was assassinated
in the thirty-seventh year of his age, by some of his own
kinsmen, who conspired against him. Tacitus says that this
happened while he was engaged in a civil war, which had been
caused by his attempts to make himself king over his countrymen.
It is far more probable (as one of the best biographers of
Arminius has observed) that Tacitus misunderstood an attempt of
Arminius to extend his influence as elective war-chieftain of the
Cherusci, and other tribes, for an attempt to obtain the royal
dignity. [Dr. Plate, in Biographical Dictionary commenced by
the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge.] When we
remember that his father-in-law and his brother were renegades,
we can well understand that a party among his kinsmen may have
been bitterly hostile to him, and have opposed his authority with
the tribe by open violence, and when that seemed ineffectual, by
secret assassination.

Arminius left a name, which the historians of the nation against

which he combated so long and so gloriously have delighted to
honour. It is from the most indisputable source, from the lips
of enemies, that we know his exploits. [See Tacitus, Ann. lib.
ii. sec. 88; Velleius Paterculus, lib. ii. sec. 118.] His
country men made history, but did not write it. But his memory
lived among them in the lays of their bards, who recorded

"The deeds he did, the fields he won,

The freedom he restored."

Tacitus, many years after the death of Arminius, says of him,

"Canitur adhuc barbaras apud gentes." As time passed on, the
gratitude of ancient Germany to her great deliverer grew into
adoration, and divine honours were paid for centuries to Arminius
by every tribe of the Low Germanic division of the Teutonic
races. The Irmin-sul, or the column of Herman, near Eresburg,
the modern Stadtberg, was the chosen object of worship to the
descendants of the Cherusci, the Old Saxons, and in defence of
which they fought most desperately against Charlemagne and his
christianized Franks. "Irmin, in the cloudy Olympus of Teutonic
belief, appears as a king and a warrior; and the pillar, the
'Irmin-sul,' bearing the statue, and considered as the symbol of
the deity, was the Palladium of the Saxon nation, until the
temple of Eresburg was destroyed by Charlemagne, and the column
itself transferred to the monastery of Corbey, where, perhaps, a
portion of the rude rock idol yet remains, covered by the
ornaments of the Gothic era." [Palgrave on the English
Commonwealth, vol. ii. p. 140.]

Traces of the worship of Arminius are to be found among our

Anglo-Saxon ancestors, after their settlement in this island.
One of the four great highways was held to be under the
protection of the deity, and was called the "Irmin-street." The
name Arminius is, of course, the mere Latinized form of "Herman,"
the name by which the hero and the deity were known by every man
of Low German blood, on either side of the German Sea. It means,
etymologically, the "War-man," the "man of hosts." No other
explanation of the worship of the "Irmin-sul," and of the name of
the "Irmin-street," is so satisfactory as that which connects
them with the deified Arminius. We know for certain of the
existence of other columns of an analogous character. Thus,
there was the Roland-seule in North Germany; there was a Thor-
seule in Sweden, and (what is more important) there was an
Athelstan-seule in Saxon England." [See Lappenburg's Anglo-
Saxons, p. 378. For nearly all the philological and
ethnographical facts respecting Arminius, I am indebted to Dr. R.
G. Latham.]

There is at the present moment a song respecting the Irmin-sul

current in the bishopric of Minden, one version of which might
seem only to refer to Charlemagne having pulled down the Irmin-
sul:--

"Herman, sla dermen,

Sla pipen, sla trummen,
De Kaiser will kummen,
Met hamer un stangen,
Will Herman uphangen."

But there is another version, which probably is the oldest, and

which clearly refers to the great Arminius:--

"Un Herman slaug dermen;

Slaug pipen, slaug trummen;
De fursten sind kammen,
Met all eren-mannen
Hebt VARUS uphangen."
[See Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, p. 329.]

About ten centuries and a half after the demolition of the Irmin-
sul, and nearly eighteen after the death of Arminius, the modern
Germans conceived the idea of rendering tardy homage to their
great hero; and, accordingly some eight or ten years ago, a
general subscription was organized in Germany, for the purpose of
erecting on the Osning--a conical mountain, which forms the
highest summit of the Teutoberger Wald, and is eighteen hundred
feet above the level of the sea--a colossal bronze statue of
Arminius. The statue was designed by Bandel. The hero was to
stand uplifting a sword in his right hand, and looking towards
the Rhine. The height of the statue was to be eighty feet from
the base to the point of the sword, and was to stand on a
circular Gothic temple, ninety feet high, and supported by oak
trees as columns. The mountain, where it was to be erected, is
wild and stern, and overlooks the scene of the battle. It was
calculated that the statue would be clearly visible at a distance
of sixty miles. The temple is nearly finished, and the statue
itself has been cast at the copper works at Lemgo. But there,
through want of funds to set it up, it has lain for some years,
in disjointed fragments, exposed to the mutilating homage of
relic-seeking travellers. The idea of honouring a hero who
belongs to ALL Germany, is not one which the present rulers of
that divided country have any wish to encourage; and the statue
may long continue to lie there, and present too true a type of
the condition of Germany herself. [On the subject of this
statue I must repeat an acknowledgment of my obligations to my
friend Mr. Henry Pearson.]

Surely this is an occasion in which Englishmen might well prove,

by acts as well as words, that we also rank Arminius among our
heroes.

I have quoted the noble stanzas of one of our modern English

poets on Arminius, and I will conclude this memoir with one of
the odes of the great poet of modern Germany, Klopstock, on the
victory to which we owe our freedom, and Arminius mainly owes his
fame. Klopstock calls it the "Battle of Winfield." The epithet
of "Sister of Cannae" shows that Klopstock followed some
chronologers, according to whom, Varus was defeated on the
anniversary of the day on which Paulus and Varro were defeated by
Hannibal.

SONG OF TRIUMPH AFTER THE VICTORY OF HERRMAN, THE DELIVERER OF

GERMANY FROM THE ROMANS.

FROM KLOPSTOCK'S "HERRMAN UND DIE FURSTEN."

Supposed to be sung by a Chorus of Bards.

A CHORUS.

Sister of Cannae! Winfield's fight!

We saw thee with thy streaming bloody hair,
With fiery eye, bright with the world's despair,
Sweep by Walhalla's bards from out our sight.
Herrman outspake--"Now Victory or Death!"
The Romans, . . . "Victory!"
And onward rushed their eagles with the cry.
--So ended the FIRST day.

"Victory or Death!" began

Then, first, the Roman chief; and Herrman spake
Not, but home struck: the eagles fluttered--brake.
--So sped the SECOND day.

TWO CHORUSES.
 And the third came. . . . The cry was "Flight or Death!"
Flight left they not for them who'd make them slaves--
Men who stab children!--flight for THEM! . . . no! graves!
--'Twas their LAST day.

TWO BARDS.

Yet spared they messengers: two came to Rome.

How drooped the plume! the lance was left to trail
Down in the dust behind: their cheek was pale:
So came the messengers to Rome.

High in his hall the Imperator sate--

OCTAVIANUS CAESAR AUGUSTUS sate.
They filled up wine-cups, wine-cups filled they up
For him the highest, Jove of all their state.

The flutes of Lydia hushed before their voice,

Before the messengers--the "Highest" sprung--
The god against the marble pillars, wrung
By the dred words, striking his brow, and thrice
Cried he aloud in anguish--"Varus! Varus!
Give back my legions, Varus!"

And now the world-wide conquerors shrunk and feared

For fatherland and home
The lance to raise; and 'mongst those false to Rome
The death-lot rolled, and still they shrunk and feared;

"For she her face hath turned,

The victor goddess," cried these cowards--(for aye
Be it!)--"from Rome and Romans, and her day
Is done!"--And still be mourned
And cried aloud in anguish--"Varus! Varus!
Give back my legions, Varus!"

[Notes:--The battle of Cannae, B.C. 216--Hannibal's victory over

the Romans.
Winfield--the probable site of the "Herrmanschladt. See SUPRA.
Augustus was worshipped as a deity in his lifetime.
I have taken this translation from an anonymous writer in FRASER,
two years ago.]

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS BETWEEN ARMINIUS'S VICTORY OVER VARUS, AND THE

BATTLE OF CHALONS.

A.D. 43. The Romans commence the conquest of Britain, Claudius

being then Emperor of Rome. The population of this island was
then Celtic. In about forty years all the tribes south of the
Clyde were subdued, and their land made a Roman province.

68-60. Successful campaigns of the Roman general Corbulo against

the Parthians.

64. First persecution of the Christians at Rome under Nero.

68-70. Civil wars in the Roman World. The emperors Nero, Galba,
Otho, and Vitellius, cut off successively by violent deaths.
Vespasian becomes emperor.

70. Jerusalem destroyed by the Romans under Titus.

83. Futile attack of Domitian on the Germans.

86. Beginning of the wars between the Romans and the Dacians.

98-117. Trajan, emperor of Rome. Under him the empire acquires

its greatest territorial extent by his conquests in Dacia and in
the East. His successor, Hadrian, abandons the provinces beyond
the Euphrates, which Trajan had conquered.

138-180. Era of the Antonines.

167-176. A long and desperate war between Rome and a great

confederacy of the German nations. Marcus Antoninus at last
succeeds in repelling them.

192-197. Civil Wars throughout the Roman world. Severus becomes

emperor. He relaxes the discipline of the soldiers. After his
death in 211, the series of military insurrections, civil wars,
and murders of emperors recommences.

226. Artaxerxes (Ardisheer) overthrows the Parthian, and

restores the Persian kingdom in Asia. He attacks the Roman
possessions in the East.

260. The Goths invade the Roman provinces. The emperor Decius
is defeated and slain by them.

253-260. The Franks and Alemanni invade Gaul, Spain, and Africa.
The Goths attack Asia Minor and Greece. The Persians conquer
Armenia. Their king, Sapor, defeats the Roman emperor Valerian,
and takes him prisoner. General distress of the Roman empire.

268-283. The emperors Claudius, Aurelian, Tacitus, Probus, and

Carus defeat the various enemies of Rome, and restore order in
the Roman state.

285. Diocletian divides and reorganizes the Roman empire. After

his abdication in 305 a fresh series of civil wars and confusion
ensues. Constantine, the first Christian emperor, reunites the
empire in 324.

330. Constantine makes Constantinople the seat of empire instead

of Rome.

363. The emperor Julian is killed in action against the

Persians.

364-375. The empire is again divided, Valentinian being emperor

of the West, and Valens of the East. Valentinian repulses the
Alemanni, and other German invaders from Gaul. Splendour of the
Gothic kingdom under Hermanric, north of the Danube.

376-395. The Huns attack the Goths, who implore the protection
of the Roman emperor of the East. The Goths are allowed to pass
the Danube, and to settle in the Roman provinces. A war soon
breaks out between them and the Romans, and the emperor Valens
and his army are destroyed by them. They ravage the Roman
territories. The emperor Theodosius reduces them to submission.
They retain settlements in Thrace and Asia Minor.

395. Final division of the Roman empire between Arcadius and

Honorius, the two sons of Theodosius. The Goths revolt, and
under Alaric attack various parts of both the Roman empires.

410. Alaric takes the city of Rome.

412. The Goths march into Gaul, and in 414 into Spain, which had
been already invaded by hosts of Vandals, Suevi, Alani, and other
Germanic nations. Britain is formally abandoned by the Roman
emperor of the West.

428. Genseric, king of the Vandals, conquers the Roman province

of North Africa.

441. The Huns attack the Eastern empire.

CHAPTER VI

THE BATTLE OF CHALONS, A.D. 451.

"The discomfiture of the mighty attempt of Attila to found a new

anti-Christian dynasty upon the wreck of the temporal power of
Rome, at the end of the term of twelve hundred years, to which
its duration had been limited by the forebodings of the
heathen."--HERBERT.

A broad expanse of plains, the Campi Catalaunici of the ancients,

spreads far and wide around the city of Chalons, in the north-
east of France. The long rows of poplars, through which the
river Marne winds its way, and a few thinly-scattered villages,
are almost the only objects that vary the monotonous aspect of
the greater part of this region. But about five miles from
Chalons, near the little hamlets of Chaps and Cuperly, the ground
is indented and heaped up in ranges of grassy mounds and
trenches, which attest the work of man's hand in ages past; and
which, to the practised eye, demonstrate that this quiet spot has
once been the fortified position of a huge military host.

Local tradition gives to these ancient earthworks the name of

Attila's Camp. Nor is there any reason to question the
correctness of the title, or to doubt that behind these very
ramparts it was that, 1400 years ago, the most powerful heathen
king that ever ruled in Europe mustered the remnants of his vast
army, which had striven on these plains against the Christian
soldiery of Thoulouse and Rome. Here it was that Attila prepared
to resist to the death his victors in the field; and here he
heaped up the treasures of his camp in one vast pile, which was
to be his funeral pyre should his camp be stormed. It was here
that the Gothic and Italian forces watched but dared not assail,
their enemy in his despair, after that great and terrible day of
battle, when

"The sound
Of conflict was o'erpast, the shout of all
Whom earth could send from her remotest bounds,
Heathen or faithful;--from thy hundred mouths,
That feed the Caspian with Riphean snows,
Huge Volga! from famed Hypanis, which once
Cradled the Hun; from all the countless realms
Between Imaus and that utmost strand
Where columns of Herculean rock confront
The blown Atlantic; Roman, Goth, and Hun,
And Scythian strength of chivalry, that tread
The cold Codanian shore, or what far lands
Inhospitable drink Cimmerian floods,
Franks, Saxons, Suevic, and Sarmartian chiefs,
And who from green Armorica or Spain
Flocked to the work of death."
[Herbert's Attila, book i. line 13.]

The victory which the Roman general Aetius, with his Gothic
allies, had then gained over the Huns, was the last victory of
Imperial Rome. But among the long Fasti of her triumphs, few can
be found that, for their importance and ultimate benefit to
mankind, are comparable with this expiring effort of her arms.
It did not, indeed, open to her any new career of conquest; it
did not consolidate the relics of her power; it did not turn the
rapid ebb of her fortunes. The mission of Imperial Rome was, in
truth, already accomplished. She had received and transmitted
through her once ample dominion the civilization of Greece. She
had broken up the barriers of narrow nationalities among the
various states and tribes that dwelt around the coast of the
Mediterranean. She had fused these and many other races into one
organized empire, bound together by a community of laws, of
government and institutions. Under the shelter of her full power
the True Faith had arisen in the earth and during the years of
her decline it had been nourished to maturity, and had overspread
all the provinces that ever obeyed her sway. [See the
Introduction to Ranke's History of the Popes.] For no beneficial
purpose to mankind could the dominion of the seven-hilled city
have been restored or prolonged. But it was all-important to
mankind what nations should divide among them Rome's rich
inheritance of empire: whether the Germanic and Gothic warriors
should form states and kingdoms out of the fragments of her
dominions, and become the free members of the commonwealth of
Christian Europe; or whether pagan savages from the wilds of
Central Asia should crush the relics of classic civilization, and
the early institutions of the christianized Germans, in one
hopeless chaos of barbaric conquest. The Christian Vistigoths of
King Theodoric fought and triumphed at Chalons, side by side with
the legions of Aetius. Their joint victory over the Hunnish host
not only rescued for a time from destruction the old age of Rome,
but preserved for centuries of power and glory the Germanic
element in the civilization of modern Europe.

In order to estimate the full importance to mankind of the battle

of Chalons, we must keep steadily in mind who and what the
Germans were, and the important distinctions between them and the
numerous other races that assailed the Roman Empire: and it is
to be understood that the Gothic and the Scandinavian nations are
included in the German race. Now, "in two remarkable traits the
Germans differed from the Sarmatic, as well as from the Slavic
nations, and, indeed, from all those other races to whom the
Greeks and Romans gave the designation of barbarians. I allude
to their personal freedom and regards for the rights of men;
secondly, to the respect paid by them to the female sex and the
chastity for which the latter were celebrated among the people of
the North. These were the foundations of that probity of
character, self-respect, and purity of manners which may be
traced among the Germans and Goths even during pagan times, and
which, when their sentiments were enlightened by Christianity,
brought out those splendid traits of character which distinguish
the age of chivalry and romance." [See Prichard's Researches
into the Physical History of Mankind, vol iii. p. 423.] What the
intermixture of the German stock with the classic, at the fall of
the Western Empire, has done for mankind may be best felt by
watching, with Arnold, over how large a portion of the earth the
influence of the German element is now extended.

"It affects, more or less, the whole west of Europe, from the
head of the Gulf of Bothnia to the most southern promontory of
Sicily, from the Oder and the Adriatic to the Hebrides and to
Lisbon. It is true that the language spoken over a large portion
of this space is not predominantly German; but even in France,
and Italy, and Spain, the influence of the Franks, Burgundians,
Visigoths, Ostrogoths, and Lombards, while it has coloured even
the language, has in blood and institutions left its mark legibly
and indelibly. Germany, the Low Countries, Switzerland for the
most part, Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, and our own islands, are
all in language, in blood, and in institutions, German most
decidedly. But all South America is peopled with Spaniards and
Portuguese; all North America, and all Australia with Englishmen.
I say nothing of the prospects and influence of the German race
in Africa and in India: it is enough to say that half of Europe,
and all America and Australia, are German, more or less
completely, in race, in language, or in institutions, or in all."
[Arnold's Lectures on Modern History, p. 35.]

By the middle of the fifth century, Germanic nations had settled

themselves in many of the fairest regions of the Roman empire,
had imposed their yoke on the provincials, and had undergone, to
a considerable extent, that moral conquest which the arts and
refinements of the vanquished in arms have so often achieved over
the rough victor. The Visigoths held the north of Spain and Gaul
south of the Loire. Franks, Alemanni, Alans, and Burgundians had
established themselves in other Gallic provinces, and the Suevi
were masters of a large southern portion of the Spanish
peninsula. A king of the Vandals reigned in North Africa, and
the Ostrogoths had firmly planted themselves in the provinces
north of Italy. Of these powers and principalities, that of the
Visigoths, under their king Theodoric, son of Alaric, was by far
the first in power and in civilization.

The pressure of the Huns upon Europe had first been felt in the
fourth century of our era. They had long been formidable to the
Chinese empire; but the ascendency in arms which another nomadic
tribe of Central Asia, the Sienpi gained over them, drove the
Huns from their Chinese conquests westward; and this movement
once being communicated to the whole chain of barbaric nations
that dwelt northward of the Black Sea and the Roman empire, tribe
after tribe of savage warriors broke in upon the barriers of
civilized Europe, "velut unda supervenit undam." The Huns
crossed the Tanais into Europe in 375, and rapidly reduced to
subjection the Alans, the Ostrogoths, and other tribes that were
then dwelling along the course of the Danube. The armies of the
Roman emperor that tried to check their progress were cut to
pieces by them; and Panonia and other provinces south of the
Danube were speedily occupied by the victorious cavalry of these
new invaders. Not merely the degenerate Romans, but the bold
and hardy warriors of Germany and Scandinavia were appalled at
the numbers, the ferocity, the ghastly appearance, and the
lightning-like rapidity of the Huns. Strange and loathsome
legends were coined and credited, which attributed their origin
to the union of "Secret, black, and midnight hags" with the evil
spirits of the wilderness.

Tribe after tribe, and city after city, fell before them. Then
came a pause in their career of conquest in South-western Europe
caused probably by dissensions among their chiefs, and also by
their arms being employed in attack upon the Scandinavian
nations. But when Attila (or Atzel, as he is called in the
Hungarian language) became their ruler, the torrent of their arms
was directed with augmented terrors upon the west and the south;
and their myriads marched beneath the guidance of one master-mind
to the overthrow both of the new and the old powers of the earth.

Recent events have thrown such a strong interest over everything

connected with the Hungarian name, that even the terrible name of
Attila now impresses us the more vividly through our sympathising
admiration of the exploits of those who claim to be descended
from his warriors, and "ambitiously insert the name of Attila
among their native kings." The authenticity of this martial
genealogy is denied by some writers, and questioned by more. But
it is at least certain that the Magyars of Arpad, who are the
immediate ancestors of the bulk of the modern Hungarians, and who
conquered the country which bears the name of Hungary in A.D.
889, were of the same stock of mankind as were the Huns of
Attila, even if they did not belong to the same subdivision of
that stock. Nor is there any improbability in the tradition,
that after Attila's death many of his warriors remained in
Hungary, and that their descendants afterwards joined the Huns of
Arpad in their career of conquest. It is certain that Attila
made Hungary the seat of his empire. It seems also susceptible
of clear proof that the territory was then called Hungvar, and
Attila's soldiers Hungvari. Both the Huns of Attila and those of
Arpad came from the family of nomadic nations, whose primitive
regions were those vast wildernesses of High Asia which are
included between the Altaic and the Himalayan mountain-chains.
The inroads of these tribes upon the lower regions of Asia and
into Europe, have caused many of the most remarkable revolutions
in the history of the world. There is every reason to believe
that swarms of these nations made their way into distant parts of
the earth, at periods long before the date of the Scythian
invasion of Asia, which is the earliest inroad of the nomadic
race that history records. The first, as far as we can
conjecture, in respect to the time of their descent were the
Finnish and Ugrian tribes, who appear to have come down from the
Asiatic border of High Asia towards the north-west, in which
direction they advanced to the Uralian mountains. There they
established themselves: and that mountain chain, with its
valleys and pasture-lands, became to them a new country, whence
they sent out colonies on every side; but the Ugrian colony,
which under Arpad occupied Hungary, and became the ancestors of
the bulk of the present Hungarian nation, did not quit their
settlements on the Uralian mountains till a very late period, not
until four centuries after the time when Attila led from the
primary seats of the nomadic races in High Asia the host with
which he advanced into the heart of France. [See Prichard's
Researches into the Physical History of Mankind.] That host was
Turkish; but closely allied in origin, language, and habits, with
the Finno-Ugrian settlers on the Ural.

Attila's fame has not come down to us through the partial and
suspicious medium of chroniclers and poets of his own race. It
is not from Hunnish authorities that we learn the extent of his
might: It is from his enemies, from the literature and the
legends of the nations whom he afflicted with his arms, that we
draw the unquestionable evidence of his greatness. Besides the
express narratives of Byzantine, Latin, and Gothic writers, we
have the strongest proof of the stern reality of Attila's
conquests in the extent to which he and his Huns have been the
themes of the earliest German and Scandinavian lays. Wild as
many of these legends are, they bear concurrent and certain
testimony to the awe with which the memory of Attila was regarded
by the bold warriors who composed and delighted in them.
Attila's exploits, and the wonders of his unearthly steed and
magic sword, repeatedly occur in the Sagas of Norway and Iceland;
and the celebrated Niebelungen Lied, the most ancient of Germanic
poetry, is full of them. There Etsel or Attila, is described as
the wearer of twelve mighty crowns, and as promising to his bride
the lands of thirty kings, whom his irresistible sword has
subdued. He is, in fact, the hero of the latter part of this
remarkable poem; and it is at his capital city, Etselenburgh,
which evidently corresponds to the modern Buda, that much of its
action takes place.

When we turn from the legendary to the historic Attila, we see

clearly that he was not one of the vulgar herd of barbaric
conquerors. Consummate military skill may be traced in his
campaigns; and he relied far less on the brute force of armies
for the aggrandizement of his empire, than on the unbounded
influence over the affections of friends and the fears of foes
which his genius enabled him to acquire. Austerely sober in his
private life, severely just on the judgment-seat, conspicuous
among a nation of warriors for hardihood, strength, and skill in
every martial exercise, grave and deliberate in counsel, but
rapid and remorseless in execution, he gave safety and security
to all who were under his dominion, while he waged a warfare of
extermination against all who opposed or sought to escape from
it. He matched the national passions, the prejudices, the
creeds, and the superstitions of the varied nations over which he
ruled, and of those which he sought to reduce beneath his sway:
and these feelings he had the skill to turn to his own account.
His own warriors believed him to be the inspired favourite of
their deities, and followed him with fanatic zeal: his enemies
looked on him as the pre-appointed minister of Heaven's wrath
against themselves; and, though they believed not in his creed,
their own made them tremble before him.

In one of his early campaigns he appeared before his troops with

an ancient iron sword in his grasp, which he told them was the
god of war whom their ancestors had worshipped. It is certain
that the nomadic tribes of Northern Asia, whom Herodotus
described under the name of Scythians, from the earliest times
worshipped as their god a bare sword. That sword-God was
supposed, in Attila's time, to have disappeared from earth; but
the Hunnish king now claimed to have received it by special
revelation. It was said that a herdsman, who was tracking in the
desert a wounded heifer by the drops of blood, found the
mysterious sword standing fixed in the ground, as if it had been
darted down from heaven. The herdsman bore it to Attila, who
thenceforth was believed by the Huns to wield the Spirit of Death
in battle; and the seers prophesied that that sword was to
destroy the world. A Roman, [Priscus.] who was on an embassy to
the Hunnish camp, recorded in his memoirs Attila's acquisition of
this supernatural weapon, and the immense influence over the
minds of the barbaric tribes which its possession gave him. In
the title which he assumed, we shall see the skill with which he
availed himself of the legends and creeds of other nations as
well as of his own. He designated himself "ATTILA, Descendant of
the Great Nimrod. Nurtured in Engaddi. By the Grace of God,
King of the Huns, the Goths, the Danes, and the Medes. The Dread
of the World."

Herbert states that Attila is represented on an old medallion

with a Teraphim, or a head, on his breast; and the same writer
adds: "We know, from the 'Hamartigenea' of Prudentius, that
Nimrod, with a snaky-haired head, was the object of adoration to
the heretical followers of Marcion; and the same head was the
palladium set up by Antiochus Epiphanes over the gates of
Antioch, though it has been called the visage of Charon. The
memory of Nimrod was certainly regarded with mystic veneration by
many; and by asserting himself to be the heir of that mighty
hunter before the Lord, he vindicated to himself at least the
whole Babylonian kingdom.

"The singular assertion in his style, that he was nurtured in

Engaddi where he certainly, had never been, will be more easily
understood on reference to the twelfth chapter of the Book of
Revelation, concerning the woman clothed with the sun, who was to
bring forth in the wilderness--'where she hath a place prepared
of God'--a man-child, who was to contend with the dragon having
seven heads and ten horns, and rule all nations with a rod of
iron. This prophecy was at that time understood universally by
the sincere Christians to refer to the birth of Constantine, who
was to overwhelm the paganism of the city on the seven hills, and
it is still so explained; but it is evident that the heathens
must have looked on it in a different light, and have regarded it
as a foretelling of the birth of that Great One who should master
the temporal power of Rome. The assertion, therefore, that he
was nurtured in Engaddi, is a claim to be looked upon as that
man-child who was to be brought forth in a place prepared of God
in the wilderness. Engaddi means, a place of palms and vines, in
the desert; it was hard by Zoar, the city of refuge, which was
saved in the vale of Siddim, or Demons, when the rest were
destroyed by fire and brimstone from the Lord in heaven, and
might, therefore, be especially called a place prepared of God in
the wilderness."

It is obvious enough why he styled himself "By the grace of God,

King of the Huns and Goths;" and it seems far from difficult to
see why he added the names of the Medes and the Danes. His
armies had been engaged in warfare against the Persian kingdom of
the Sassanidae; and it is certain [See the narrative of Priscus.]
that he meditated the attack and overthrow of the Medo-Persian
power. Probably some of the northern provinces of that kingdom
had been compelled to pay him tribute; and this would account for
his styling himself King of the Medes, they being his remotest
subjects to the south. From a similar cause he may have called
himself King of the Danes, as his power may well have extended
northwards as far as the nearest of the Scandinavian nations; and
this mention of Medes and Danes as his subjects would serve at
once to indicate the vast extent of his dominion." [In the
"Niebelungen-Lied," the old poet who describes the reception of
the heroine Chrimhild by Attila (Etsel) says that Attila's
dominions were so vast, that among his subject-warriors there
were Russian, Greek, Wallachian, Polish, and even DANISH
KNIGHTS.]

The extensive territory north of the Danube and Black sea, and
eastward of Caucasus, over which Attila ruled, first in
conjunction with his brother Bleda, and afterwards alone, cannot
be very accurately defined; but it must have comprised within it,
besides the Huns, many nations of Slavic, Gothic, Teutonic, and
Finnish origin. South also of the Danube, the country from the
river Sau as far as Novi in Thrace was a Hunnish province. Such
was the empire of the Huns in A.D. 445; a memorable year, in
which Attila founded Buda on the Danube as his capital city; and
ridded himself of his brother by a crime, which seems to have
been prompted not only by selfish ambition, but also by a desire
of turning to his purpose the legends and forebodings which then
were universally spread throughout the Roman empire, and must
have been well known to the watchful and ruthless Hun.

The year 445 of our era completed the twelfth century from the
foundation of Rome, according to the best chronologers. It had
always been believed among the Romans that the twelve vultures
which were said to have appeared to Romulus when he founded the
city, signified the time during which the Roman power should
endure. The twelve vultures denoted twelve centuries. This
interpretation of the vision of the birds of destiny was current
among learned Romans, even when there were yet many of the twelve
centuries to run, and while the imperial city was at the zenith
of its power. But as the allotted time drew nearer and nearer to
its conclusion, and as Rome grew weaker and weaker beneath the
blows of barbaric invaders, the terrible omen was more and more
talked and thought of; and in Attila's time, men watched for the
momentary extinction of the Roman state with the last beat of the
last vulture's wing. Moreover, among the numerous legends
connected with the foundation of the city, and the fratricidal
death of Remus, there was one most terrible one, which told that
Romulus did not put his brother to death in accident, or in hasty
quarrel, but that

"He slew his gallant twin

With inexpiable sin."

deliberately, and in compliance with the warnings of supernatural

powers. The shedding of a brother's blood was believed to have
been the price at which the founder of Rome had purchased from
destiny her twelve centuries of existence. [See a curious
justification of Attila's murder of his brother, by a zealous
Hungarian advocate, in the note to Pray's "Annales Hunnorum,"
p. 117. The example of Romulus is the main authority quoted.]

We may imagine, therefore, with what terror in this, the twelve-

hundredth year after the foundation of Rome, the inhabitants of
the Roman empire must have heard the tidings that the royal
brethren, Attila and Bleda, had founded a new capitol on the
Danube, which was designed to rule over the ancient capitol on
the Tiber; and that Attila, like Romulus, had consecrated the
foundations of his new city by murdering his brother; so that,
for the new cycle of centuries then about to commence, dominion
had been bought from the gloomy spirits of destiny in favour of
the Hun, by a sacrifice of equal awe and value with that which
had formerly obtained it for the Romans.

It is to be remembered that not only the pagans, but also the

Christians of that age, knew and believed in these legends and
omens, however they might differ as to the nature of the
superhuman agency by which such mysteries had been made known to
mankind. And we may observe, with Herbert, a modern learned
dignitary of our Church, how remarkably this augury was
fulfilled. For, "if to the twelve centuries denoted by the
twelve vultures that appeared to Romulus, we add for the six
birds that appeared to Remus six lustra, or periods of five years
each, by which the Romans were wont to number their time, it
brings us precisely to the year 476, in which the Roman empire
was finally extinguished by Odoacer."

An attempt to assassinate Attila, made, or supposed to have been

made, at the instigation of Theodosius the Younger, the Emperor
of Constantinople, drew the Hunnish armies, in 445, upon the
Eastern empire, and delayed for a time the destined blow against
Rome. Probably a more important cause of delay was the revolt of
some of the Hunnish tribes to the north of the Black Sea against
Attila, which broke out about this period, and is cursorily
mentioned by the Byzantine writers. Attila quelled this revolt;
and having thus consolidated his power, and having punished the
presumption of the Eastern Roman emperor by fearful ravages of
his fairest provinces, Attila, A.D. 450, prepared to set his vast
forces in motion for the conquest of Western Europe. He sought
unsuccessfully by diplomatic intrigues to detach the King of the
Visigoths from his alliance with Rome, and he resolved first to
crush the power of Theodoric, and then to advance with
overwhelming power to trample out the last sparks of the doomed
Roman empire.

A strong invitation from a Roman princess gave him a pretext for

the war, and threw an air of chivalric enterprise over his
invasion. Honoria, sister of Valentinian III., the Emperor of
the West, had sent to Attila to offer him her hand, and her
supposed right to share in the imperial power. This had been
discovered by Romans, and Honoria had been forthwith closely
imprisoned, Attila now pretended to take up arms in behalf of his
self-promised bride, and proclaimed that he was about to march to
Rome to redress Honoria's wrongs. Ambition and spite against her
brother must have been the sole motives that led the lady to woo
the royal Hun for Attila's face and person had all the national
ugliness of his race and the description given of him by a
Byzantine ambassador must have been well known in the imperial
courts. Herbert has well versified the portrait drawn by Priscus
of the great enemy of both Byzantium and Rome:--

"Terrific was his semblance, in no mould

Of beautiful proportion cast; his limbs
Nothing exalted, but with sinews braced
Of Chalybaean temper, agile, lithe,
And swifter than the roe; his ample chest
Was overbrowed by a gigantic head,
With eyes keen, deeply sunk, and small, that gleam'd
Strangely in wrath, as though some spirit unclean
Within that corporal tenement installed
Look'd from its windows, but with temper'd fire
Beam'd mildly on the unresisting. Thin
His beard and hoary; his flat nostrils crown'd
A cicatrised, swart visage,--but withal
That questionable shape such glory wore
That mortals quail'd beneath him."

Two chiefs of the Franks, who were then settled on the lower
Rhine, were at this period engaged in a feud with each other:
and while one of them appealed to the Romans for aid, the other
invoked the assistance and protection of the Huns. Attila thus
obtained an ally whose co-operation secured for him the passage
of the Rhine; and it was this circumstance which caused him to
take a northward route from Hungary for his attack upon Gaul.
The muster of the Hunnish hosts was swollen by warriors of every
tribe that they had subjugated; nor is there any reason to
suspect the old chroniclers of wilful exaggeration in estimating
Attila's army at seven hundred thousand strong. Having crossed
the Rhine, probably a little below Coblentz, he defeated the King
of the Burgundians, who endeavoured to bar his progress. He then
divided his vast forces into two armies,--one of which marched
north-west upon Tongres and Arras, and the other cities of that
part of France; while the main body, under Attila himself marched
up the Moselle, and destroyed Besancon, and other towns in the
country of the Burgundians. One of the latest and best
biographers of Attila well observes, that, "having thus conquered
the eastern part of France, Attila prepared for an invasion of
the West Gothic territories beyond the Loire. He marched upon
Orleans, where he intended to force the passage of that river;
and only a little attention is requisite to enable us to perceive
that he proceeded on a systematic plan: he had his right wing on
the north, for the protection of his Frank allies; his left wing
on the south, for the purpose of preventing the Burgundians from
rallying, and of menacing the passes of the Alps from Italy; and
he led his centre towards the chief object of the campaign--the
conquest of Orleans, and an easy passage into the West Gothic
dominion. The whole plan is very like that of the allied powers
in 1814, with this difference, that their left wing entered
France through the defiles of the Jura, in the direction of
Lyons, and that the military object of the campaign was the
capture of Paris." [Biographical Dictionary commenced by the
Useful Knowledge Society in 1844.]

It was not until the year 451 that the Huns commenced the siege
of Orleans; and during their campaign in Eastern Gaul, the Roman
general Aetius had strenuously exerted himself in collecting and
organizing such an army as might, when united to the soldiery of
the Visigoths, be fit to face the Huns in the field. He enlisted
every subject of the Roman empire whom patriotism, courage, or
compulsion could collect beneath the standards; and round these
troops, which assumed the once proud title of the legions of
Rome, he arrayed the large forces of barbaric auxiliaries whom
pay, persuasion, or the general hate and dread of the Huns,
brought to the camp of the last of the Roman generals. King
Theodoric exerted himself with equal energy, Orleans resisted her
besiegers bravely as in after times. The passage of the Loire
was skilfully defended against the Huns; and Aetius and
Theodoric, after much manoeuvring and difficulty, effected a
junction of their armies to the south of that important river.

On the advance of the allies upon Orleans, Attila instantly broke

up the siege of that city, and retreated towards the Marne. He
did not choose to risk a decisive battle with only the central
corps of his army against the combined power of his enemies; and
he therefore fell back upon his base of operations; calling in
his wings from Arras and Besancon, and concentrating the whole of
the Hunnish forces on the vast plains of Chalons-sur-Marne. A
glance at the map will show how scientifically this place was
chosen by the Hunnish general, as the point for his scattered
forces to converge upon; and the nature of the ground was
eminently favourable for the operations of cavalry, the arm in
which Attila's strength peculiarly lay.

It was during the retreat from Orleans that a Christian is

reported to have approached the Hunnish king, and said to him,
"Thou art the Scourge of God for the chastisement of Christians."
Attila instantly assumed this new title of terror, which
thenceforth became the appellation by which he was most widely
and most fearfully known.

The confederate armies of Romans and Visigoths at last met their

great adversary, face to face, on the ample battle-ground of the
Chalons plains. Aetius commanded on the right of the allies;
King Theodoric on the left; and Sangipan, king of the Alans,
whose fidelity was suspected, was placed purposely in the centre
and in the very front of the battle. Attila commanded his centre
in person, at the head of his own countrymen, while the
Ostrogoths, the Gepidae, and the other subject allies of the
Huns, were drawn up on the wings. Some manoeuvring appears to
have occurred before the engagement, in which Attila had the
advantage, inasmuch as he succeeded in occupying a sloping hill,
which commanded the left flank of the Huns. Attila saw the
importance of the position taken by Aetius on the high ground,
and commenced the battle by a furious attack on this part of the
Roman line, in which he seems to have detached some of his best
troops from his centre to aid his left. The Romans having the
advantage of the ground, repulsed the Huns, and while the allies
gained this advantage on their right, their left, under King
Theodoric, assailed the Ostrogoths, who formed the right of
Attila's army. The gallant king was himself struck down by a
javelin, as he rode onward at the head of his men, and his own
cavalry charging over him trampled him to death in the confusion.
But the Visigoths, infuriated, not dispirited, by their monarch's
fall, routed the enemies opposed to them, and then wheeled upon
the flank of the Hunnish centre, which had been engaged in a
sanguinary and indecisive contest with the Alans.

In this peril Attila made his centre fall back upon his camp; and
when the shelter of its entrenchments and waggons had once been
gained, the Hunnish archers repulsed, without difficulty, the
charges of the vengeful Gothic cavalry. Aetius had not pressed
the advantage which he gained on his side of the field, and when
night fell over the wild scene of havoc, Attila's left was still
unbroken, but his right had been routed, and his centre forced
back upon his camp.

Expecting an assault on the morrow, Attila stationed his best

archers in front of the cars and waggons, which were drawn up as
a fortification along his lines, and made every preparation for a
desperate resistance. But the "Scourge of God" resolved that no
man should boast of the honour of having either captured or slain
him; and he caused to be raised in the centre of his encampment a
huge pyramid of the wooden saddles of his cavalry: round it he
heaped the spoils and the wealth that he had won; on it he
stationed his wives who had accompanied him in the campaign; and
on the summit he placed himself, ready to perish in the flames,
and baulk the victorious foe of their choicest booty, should they
succeed in storming his defences.

But when the morning broke, and revealed the extent of the
carnage, with which the plains were heaped for miles, the
successful allies saw also and respected the resolute attitude of
their antagonist. Neither were any measures taken to blockade
him in his camp, and so to extort by famine that submission which
it was too plainly perilous to enforce with the sword. Attila
was allowed to march back the remnants of his army without
molestation, and even with the semblance of success.

It is probable that the crafty Aetius was unwilling to be too

victorious. He dreaded the glory which his allies the Visigoths
had acquired; and feared that Rome might find a second Alaric in
Prince Thorismund, who had signalized himself in the battle, and
had been chosen on the field to succeed his father Theodoric. He
persuaded the young king to return at once to his capital: and
thus relieved himself at the same time of the presence of a
dangerous friend, as well as of a formidable though beaten foe.

Attila's attacks on the Western, empire were soon renewed; but

never with such peril to the civilized world as had menaced it
before his defeat at Chalons. And on his death, two years after
that battle, the vast empire which his genius had founded was
soon dissevered by the successful revolts of the subject nations.
The name of the Huns ceased for some centuries to inspire terror
in Western Europe, and their ascendency passed away with the life
of the great king by whom it had been so fearfully augmented.
[If I seem to have given fewer of the details of the battle
itself than its importance would warrant, my excuse must be, that
Gibbon has enriched our language with a description of it, too
long for quotation and too splendid for rivalry. I have not,
however, taken altogether the same view of it that he has. The
notes to Mr. Herbert's poem of "Attila" bring together nearly all
the authorities on the subject.]

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS BETWEEN THE BATTLE OF CHALONS, A.D. 451, AND

THE BATTLE OF TOURS, 732.

A.D. 476. The Roman Empire of the West extinguished by Odoacer.

482. Establishment of the French monarchy in Gaul by Clovis.

455-482. The Saxons, Angles, and Frisians conquer Britain

except the northern parts, and the districts along the west
coast. The German conquerors found eight independent kingdoms.

533-568. The generals of Justinian, the Emperor of

Constantinople, conquer Italy and North Africa; and these
countries are for a short time annexed to the Roman Empire of the
East.

568-570. The Lombards conquer great part of Italy.

570-627. The wars between the Emperors of Constantinople and

the Kings of Persia are actively continued.

622. The Mahometan era of the Hegira. Mahomet is driven from

Mecca, and is received as prince of Medina.

629-632. Mahomet conquers Arabia.

632-651. The Mahometan Arabs invade and conquer Persia.

632-709. They attack the Roman Empire of the East. They

conquer Syria, Egypt, and Africa.

709-713. They cross the straits of Gibraltar, and invade and

conquer Spain.

"At the death of Mohammad, in 632, his temporal and religious

sovereignty embraced and was limited by the Arabian Peninsula.
The Roman and Persian empires, engaged in tedious and indecisive
hostility upon the rivers of Mesopotamia and the Armenian
mountains, were viewed by the ambitious fanatics of his creed as
their quarry. In the very first year of Mohammad's immediate
successor, Abubeker, each of these mighty empires was invaded.
The crumbling fabric of Eastern despotism is never secured
against rapid and total subversion; a few victories, a few
sieges, carried the Arabian arms from the Tigris to the Oxus, and
overthrew, with the Sassanian dynasty, the ancient and famous
religion they had professed. Seven years of active and unceasing
warfare sufficed to subjugate the rich province of Syria, though
defended by numerous armies and fortified cities; and the Khalif
Omar had scarcely returned thanks for the accomplishment of this
conquest, when Amrou, his lieutenant, announced to him the entire
reduction of Egypt. After some interval, the Saracens won their
way along the coast of Africa, as far as the Pillars of Hercules,
and a third province was irretrievably torn from the Greek
empire. These western conquests introduced them to fresh
enemies, and ushered in more splendid successes. Encouraged by
the disunion of the Visigoths, and invited by treachery, Musa,
the general of a master who sat beyond the opposite extremity of
the Mediterranean Sea, passed over into Spain, and within about
two years the name of Mohammad was invoked under the Pyrenees."
--[HALLAM.]

CHAPTER VII.

THE BATTLE OF TOURS, A.D. 732,

"The events that rescued our ancestors of Britain, and our

neighbours of Gaul, from the civil and religious yoke of the
Koran."--GIBBON.

The broad tract of champaign country which intervenes between the

cities of Poictiers and Tours is principally composed of a
succession of rich pasture lands, which are traversed and
fertilized by the Cher, the Creuse, the Vienne, the Claine, the
Indre, and other tributaries of the river Loire. Here and there,
the ground swells into picturesque eminences; and occasionally a
belt of forest land, a brown heath, or a clustering series of
vineyards, breaks the monotony of the wide-spread meadows; but
the general character of the land is that of a grassy plain, and
it seems naturally adapted for the evolutions of numerous armies,
especially of those vast bodies of cavalry which, principally
decided the fate of nations during the centuries that followed
the downfall of Rome, and preceded the consolidation of the
modern European powers.

This region has been signalized by more than one memorable

conflict; but it is principally interesting to the historian, by
having been the scene of the great victory won by Charles Martel
over the Saracens, A.D. 732, which gave a decisive check to the
career of Arab conquest in Western Europe, rescued Christendom
from Islam, preserved the relics of ancient and the germs of
modern civilization, and re-established the old superiority of
the Indo-European over the Semitic family of mankind.

Sismondi and Michelet have underrated the enduring interest of

this great Appeal of Battle between the champions of the Crescent
and the Cross. But, if French writers have slighted the exploits
of their national hero, the Saracenic trophies of Charles Martel
have had full justice done to them by English and German
historians. Gibbon devotes several pages of his great work to
the narrative of the battle of Tours, and to the consideration of
the consequences which probably would have resulted, if
Abderrahman's enterprise had not been crushed by the Frankish
chief. [Vol, vii. p. 11, ET SEQ. Gibbon's remark, that if the
Saracen conquest had not then been checked, "Perhaps the
interpretation of the Koran would now be taught in the schools of
Oxford, and her pulpits might demonstrate to a circumcised people
the sanctity and truth of the revelation of Mahomat," has almost
an air of regret.] Schlegel speaks of this "mighty victory" in
terms of fervent gratitude; and tells how "the arms of Charles
Martel saved and delivered the Christian nations of the West from
the deadly grasp of all-destroying Islam;" [Philosophy of
History, p. 331.] and Ranke points out, as "one of the most
important epochs in the history of the world, the commencement of
the eighth century; when, on the one side, Mahommedanism
threatened to overspread Italy and Gaul, and on the other, the
ancient idolatry of Saxony and Friesland once more forced its way
across the Rhine. In this peril of Christian institutions, a
youthful prince of Germanic race, Karl Martell, arose as their
champion; maintained them with all the energy which the necessity
for self-defence calls forth, and finally extended them into new
regions." [History of the Reformation in Germany, vol. i. p. 5.]

Arnold ranks the victory of Charles Martel even higher than the
victory of Arminius, "among those signal deliverances which have
affected for centuries the happiness of mankind." [History of
the later Roman Commonwealth, vol ii. p. 317.] In fact, the more
we test its importance, the higher we shall be led to estimate
it; and, though the authentic details which we possess of its
circumstances and its heroes are but meagre, we can trace enough
of its general character to make us watch with deep interest this
encounter between the rival conquerors of the decaying Roman
empire. That old classic world, the history of which occupies so
large a portion of our early studies, lay, in the eighth century
of our era, utterly exanimate and overthrown. On the north the
German, on the south the Arab, was rending away its provinces.
At last the spoilers encountered one another, each striving for
the full mastery of the prey. Their conflict brought back upon
the memory of Gibbon the old Homeric simile, where the strife of
Hector and Patroclus over the dead body of Cebriones is compared
to the combat of two lions, that in their hate and hunger fight
together on the mountain-tops over the carcass of a slaughtered
stag: and the reluctant yielding of the Saracen power to the
superior might of the Northern warriors, might not inaptly recall
those other lines of the same book of the Iliad, where the
downfall of Patroclus beneath Hector is likened to the forced
yielding of the panting and exhausted wild boar, that had long
and furiously fought with a superior beast of prey for the
possession of the fountain among the rocks, at which each burned
to drink.

Although three centuries had passed away since the Germanic

conquerors of Rome had crossed the Rhine, never to repass that
frontier stream, no settled system of institutions or government,
no amalgamation of the various races into one people, no
uniformity of language or habits, had been established in the
country, at the time when Charles Martel was called on to repel
the menacing tide of Saracenic invasion from the south. Gaul was
not yet France. In that, as in other provinces of the Roman
empire of the West, the dominion of the Caesars had been
shattered as early as the fifth century, and barbaric kingdoms
and principalities had promptly arisen on the ruins of the Roman
power. But few of these had any permanency; and none of them
consolidated the rest, or any considerable number of the rest,
into one coherent and organized civil and political society. The
great bulk of the population still consisted of the conquered
provincials, that is to say, of Romanized Celts, of a Gallic race
which had long been under the dominion of the Caesars, and had
acquired, together with no slight infusion of Roman blood, the
language, the literature, the laws, and the civilization of
Latium. Among these, and dominant over them, roved or dwelt the
German victors: some retaining nearly all the rude independence
of their primitive national character; others, softened and
disciplined by the aspect and contact of the manners and
institutions of civilized life. For it is to be borne in mind,
that the Roman empire in the West was not crushed by any sudden
avalanche of barbaric invasion. The German conquerors came
across the Rhine, not in enormous hosts, but in bands of a few
thousand warriors at a time. The conquest of a province was the
result of an infinite series of partial local invasions, carried
on by little armies of this description. The victorious warriors
either retired with their booty, or fixed themselves in the
invaded district, taking care to keep sufficiently concentrated
for military purposes, and ever ready for some fresh foray,
either against a rival Teutonic band, or some hitherto unassailed
city of the provincials. Gradually, however, the conquerors
acquired a desire for permanent landed possessions. They lost
somewhat of the restless thirst for novelty and adventure which
had first made them throng beneath the banner of the boldest
captains of their tribe, and leave their native forests for a
roving military Life on the left bank of the Rhine. They were
converted to the Christian faith; and gave up with their old
creed much of the coarse ferocity, which must have been fostered
in the spirits of the ancient warriors of the North by a
mythology which promised, as the reward of the brave on earth, an
eternal cycle of fighting and drunkenness in heaven.

But, although their conversion and other civilizing influences

operated powerfully upon the Germans in Gaul; and although the
Franks (who were originally a confederation of the Teutonic
tribes that dwelt between the Rhine, the Maine, and the Weser)
established a decided superiority over the other conquerors of
the province, as well as over the conquered provincials, the
country long remained a chaos of uncombined and shifting
elements. The early princes of the Merovingian dynasty were
generally occupied in wars against other princes of their house,
occasioned by the frequent subdivisions of the Frank monarchy:
and the ablest and best of them had found all their energies
tasked to the utmost to defend the barrier of the Rhine against
the Pagan Germans, who strove to pass that river and gather their
share of the spoils of the empire.
The conquests which the Saracens effected over the southern and
eastern provinces of Rome were far more rapid than those achieved
by the Germans in the north; and the new organizations of society
which the Moslems introduced were summarily and uniformly
enforced. Exactly a century passed between the death of Mohammed
and the date of the battle of Tours. During that century the
followers of the Prophet had torn away half the Roman empire; and
besides their conquests over Persia, the Saracens had overrun
Syria, Egypt, Africa, and Spain, in an unchequered and apparently
irresistible career of victory. Nor, at the commencement of the
eighth century of our era, was the Mohammedan world divided
against itself, as it subsequently became. All these vast
regions obeyed the Caliph; throughout them all, from the Pyrenees
to the Oxus, the name of Mohammed was invoked in prayer, and the
Koran revered as the book of the law.

It was under one of their ablest and most renowned commanders,

with a veteran army, and with every apparent advantage of time,
place, and circumstance, that the Arabs made their great effort
at the conquest of Europe north of the Pyrenees. The victorious
Moslem soldiery in Spain,

"A countless multitude;

Syrian, Moor, Saracen, Greek renegade,
Persian, and Copt, and Tartar, in one bond
Of erring faith conjoined--strong in the youth
And heat of zeal--a dreadful brotherhood,"

were eager for the plunder of more Christian cities and shrines,
and full of fanatic confidence in the invincibility of their
arms.

"Nor were the chiefs

Of victory less assured, by long success
Elate, and proud of that o'erwhelming strength
Which surely, they believed, as it had rolled
Thus far uncheck'd, would roll victorious on,
Till, like the Orient, the subjected West
Should bow in reverence at Mahommed's name;
And pilrims from remotest Arctic shores
Tread with religious feet the burning sands
Of Araby and Mecca's stony soil."
SOUTHEY'S RODERICK.

It is not only by the modern Christian poet, but by the old

Arabian chroniclers also, that these feelings of ambition and
arrogance are attributed to the Moslems, who had overthrown the
Visigoth power in Spain. And their eager expectations of new
wars were excited to the utmost on the re-appointment by the
Caliph of Abderrahman Ibn Abdillah Alghafeki to the government of
that country, A.D. 729, which restored them a general who had
signalized his skill and prowess during the conquests of Africa
and Spain, whose ready valour and generosity had made him the
idol of the troops, who had already been engaged in several
expeditions into Gaul, so as to be well acquainted with the
national character and tactics of the Franks; and who was known
to thirst, like a good Moslem, for revenge for the slaughter of
some detachments of the true believers, which had been cut off on
the north of the Pyrenees.

In addition to his cardinal military virtues, Abderrahman is

described by the Arab writers as a model of integrity and
justice. The first two years of his second administration in
Spain were occupied in severe reforms of the abuses which under
his predecessors had crept into the system of government, and in
extensive preparations for his intended conquest of Gaul.
Besides the troops which he collected from his province, he
obtained from Africa a large body of chosen Barber cavalry,
officered by Arabs of proved skill and valour: and in the summer
of 732 he crossed the Pyrenees at the head of an army which some
Arab writers rate at eighty thousand strong, while some of the
Christian chroniclers swell its numbers to many hundreds of
thousands more. Probably the Arab account diminishes, but of the
two keeps nearer to the truth. It was from this formidable host,
after Eudes, the Count of Acquitaine, had vainly striven to check
it, after many strong cities had fallen before it, and half the
land been overrun, that Gaul and Christendom were at last rescued
by the strong arm of Prince Charles, who acquired a surname,
[Martel--'The Hammer.' See the Scandinavian Sagas for an account
of the favourite weapon of Thor.] like that of the war-god of
his forefathers' creed, from the might with which he broke and
shattered his enemies in the battle.

The Merovingian kings had sunk into absolute insignificance, and

had become mere puppets of royalty before the eighth century.
Charles Martel like his father, Pepin Heristal, was Duke of the
Austrasian Franks, the bravest and most thoroughly Germanic part
of the nation: and exercised, in the name of the titular king,
what little paramount authority the turbulent minor rulers of
districts and towns could be persuaded or compelled to
acknowledge. Engaged with his national competitors in perpetual
conflicts for power, engaged also in more serious struggles for
safety against the fierce tribes of the unconverted Frisians,
Bavarians, Saxons, and Thuringians, who at that epoch assailed
with peculiar ferocity the christianized Germans on the left bank
of the Rhine, Charles Martel added experienced skill to his
natural courage, and he had also formed a militia of veterans
among the Franks. Hallam has thrown out a doubt whether, in our
admiration of his victory at Tours, we do not judge a little too
much by the event, and whether there was not rashness in his
risking the fate of France on the result of a general battle with
the invaders. But, when we remember that Charles had no standing
army, and the independent spirit of the Frank warriors who
followed his standard, it seems most probable that it was not in
his power to adopt the cautious policy of watching the invaders,
and wearing out their strength by delay. So dreadful and so
wide-spread were the ravages of the Saracenic light cavalry
throughout Gaul that it must have been impossible to restrain for
any length of time the indignant ardour of the Franks. And, even
if Charles could have persuaded his men to look tamely on while
the Arabs stormed more towns and desolated more districts, he
could not have kept an army together when the usual period of a
military expedition had expired. If, indeed, the Arab account of
the disorganization of the Moslem forces be correct, the battle
was as well-timed on the part of Charles as it was beyond all
question, well-fought.

The monkish chroniclers, from whom we are obliged to glean a

narrative of this memorable campaign, bear full evidence to the
terror which the Saracen invasion inspired, and to the agony of
that; great struggle. The Saracens, say they, and their king,
who was called Abdirames, came out of Spain, with all their
wives, and their children, and their substance, in such great
multitudes that no man could reckon or estimate them. They
brought with them all their armour, and whatever they had, as if
they were thence forth always to dwell in France. ["Lors
issirent d'Espaigne li Sarrazins, et un leur Roi qui avoit nom
Abdirames, et ont leur fames et leur enfans at touts leur
substance an si grand plente que nus ne le prevoit nombrer ne
estimer: tout leur harnois et quanques il avoient amenement avec
ents, aussi comme si ils deussent toujours mes habiter en
France."]

"Then Abderrahman, seeing the land filled with the multitude of

his army, pierces through the mountains, tramples over rough and
level ground plunders far into the country of the Franks, and
smites all with the sword, insomuch that when Eudo came to battle
with him at the river Garonne, and fled before him, God alone
knows the number of the slain. Then Abderrahman pursued after
Count Eudo, and while he strives to spoil and burn the holy
shrine at Tours, he encounters the chief of the Austrasian
Franks, Charles, a man of war from his youth up, to whom Eudo had
sent warning. There for nearly seven days they strive intensely,
and at last they set themselves in battle array; and the nations
of the north standing firm as a wall, and impenetrable as a zone
of ice, utterly slay the Arabs with the edge of the sword."
["Tunc Abdirrahman, multitudine sui exercitus repletam
prospiciane terram," &c.--SCRIPT. GEST. FRANC. p. 785.]

The European writers all concur in speaking of the fall of

Abderrahman as one of the principal causes of the defeat of the
Arabs; who, according to one writer, after finding that their
leader was slain, dispersed in the night, to the agreeable
surprise of the Christians, who expected the next morning to see
them issue from their tents, and renew the combat. One monkish
chronicler puts the loss of the Arabs at 375,000 men, while he
says that only 1,007 Christians fell--a disparity of loss which
he feels bound to account for by a special interposition of
Providence. I have translated above some of the most spirited
passages of these writers; but it is impossible to collect from
them anything like a full or authentic description of the great
battle itself, or of the operations which preceded or followed
it.

Though, however, we may have cause to regret the meagreness and

doubtful character of these narratives, we have the great
advantage of being able to compare the accounts given of
Abderrahman's expedition by the national writers of each side.
This is a benefit which the inquirer into antiquity so seldom can
obtain, that the fact of possessing it, in the instance of the
battle of Tours, makes us think the historical testimony
respecting that great event more certain and satisfactory than is
the case in many other instances, where we possess abundant
details respecting military exploits, but where those details
come to us from the annalist of one nation only; and where we
have, consequently, no safeguard against the exaggerations, the
distortions, and the fictions which national vanity has so often
put forth in the garb and under the title of history. The
Arabian writers who recorded the conquests and wars of their
countrymen in Spain, have narrated also the expedition into Gaul
of their great Emir, and his defeat and death near Tours in
battle with the host of the Franks under King Caldus, the name
into which they metamorphose Charles. [The Arabian chronicles
were compiled and translated into Spanish by Don Jose Antonio
Conde, in his "Historia de la Dominacion de los Arabos an
Espana," published at Madrid in 1820. Conde's plan, which I have
endeavoured to follow, was to present both the style and spirit
of his oriental authorities, so that we find in his pages a
genuine Saracenic narrative of the wars in Western Europe between
the Mahommedans and the Christians.]

They tell us how there was war between the count of the Frankish
frontier and the Moslems, and how the count gathered together all
his people, and fought for a time with doubtful success. "But,"
say the Arabian chroniclers, "Abderrahman drove them back; and
the men of Abderrahman were puffed up in spirit by their repeated
successes, and they were full of trust in the valour and the
practice in war of their Emir. So the Moslems smote their
enemies, and passed the river Garonne, and laid waste the
country, and took captives without number. And that army went
through all places like a desolating storm. Prosperity made
those warriors insatiable. At the passage of the river,
Abderrahman overthrew the count, and the count retired into his
stronghold, but the Moslems fought against it, and entered it by
force, and slew the count; for everything gave way to their
scimetars, which were the robbers of lives. All the nations of
the Franks trembled at that terrible army, and they betook them
to their king Caldus, and told him of the havoc made by the
Moslem horsemen, and how they rode at their will through all the
land of Narbonne Toulouse, and Bordeaux, and they told the king
of the death of their count. Then the king bade them be of good
cheer, and offered to aid them. And in the 114th year [Of the
Hegira.] he mounted his home, and he took with him a host that
could not be numbered, and went against the Moslems. And he came
upon them at the great city of Tours. And Abderrahman and other
prudent cavaliers saw the disorder of the Moslem troops, who were
loaded with spoil; but they did not venture to displease the
soldiers by ordering them to abandon everything except their arms
and war-horses. And Abderrahman trusted in the valour of his
soldiers, and in the good fortune which had ever attended him.
But (the Arab writer remarks) such defect of discipline always is
fatal to armies. So Abderrahman and his host attacked Tours to
gain still more spoil, and they fought against it so fiercely
that they stormed the city almost before the eyes of the army
that came to save it; and the fury and the cruelty of the Moslems
towards the inhabitants of the city were like the fury and
cruelty of raging tigers. It was manifest," adds the Arab, "that
God's chastisement was sure to follow such excesses; and fortune
thereupon turned her back upon the Moslems.

"Near the river Owar, [Probably the Loire.] the two great hosts
of the two languages and the two creeds were set in array against
each other. The hearts of Abderrahman, his captains, and his men
were filled with wrath and pride, and they were the first to
begin the fight. The Moslem horseman dashed fierce and frequent
forward against the battalions of the Franks, who resisted
manfully, and many fell dead on either side, until the going down
of the sun. Night parted the two armies: but in the grey of the
morning the Moslems returned to the battle. Their cavaliers had
soon hewn their way into the centre of the Christian host. But
many of the Moslems were fearful for the safety of the spoil
which they had stored in their tents, and a false cry arose in
their ranks that some of the enemy were plundering the camp;
whereupon several squadrons of the Moslem horseman rode off to
protect their tents. But it seemed as if they fled; and all the
host was troubled. And while Abderrahman strove to check their
tumult, and to lead them back to battle, the warriors of the
Franks came around him, and he was pierced through with many
spears, so that he died. Then all the host fled before the
enemy, and many died in the flight. This deadly defeat of the
Moslems, and the loss of the great leader and good cavalier
Abderrahman, took place in the hundred and fifteenth year.

It would be difficult to expect from an adversary a more explicit

confession of having been thoroughly vanquished, than the Arabs
here accord to the Europeans. The points on which their
narrative differs from those of the Christians,--as to how many
days the conflict lasted, whether the assailed city was actually
rescued or not, and the like,--are of little moment compared with
the admitted great fact that there was a decisive trial of
strength between Frank and Saracen, in which the former
conquered. The enduring importance of the battle of Tours in the
eyes of the Moslems, is attested not only by the expressions of
"the deadly battle," and "the disgraceful overthrow," which their
writers constantly employ when referring to it, but also by the
fact that no further serious attempts at conquest beyond the
Pyrenees were made by the Saracens. Charles Martel, and his son
and grandson, were left at leisure to consolidate and extend
their power. The new Christian Roman Empire of the West, which
the genius of Charlemagne founded, and throughout which his iron
will imposed peace on the old anarchy of creeds and races, did
not indeed retain its integrity after its great ruler's death.
Fresh troubles came over Europe; but Christendom, though
disunited, was safe. The progress of civilization, and the
development of the nationalities and governments of modern
Europe, from that time forth, went forward in not uninterrupted,
but, ultimately, certain career.

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS BETWEEN THE BATTLE OF TOURS, A.D. 732, AND THE
BATTLE OF HASTINGS, 1066.

A.D. 768-814. Reign of Charlemagne. This monarch has justly

been termed the principal regenerator of Western Europe, after
the destruction of the Roman empire. The early death of his
brother, Carloman, left him sole master of the dominions of the
Franks, which, by a succession of victorious wars, he enlarged
into the new Empire of the West. He conquered the Lombards, and
re-established the Pope at Rome, who, in return, acknowledged
Charles as suzerain of Italy. and in the year 800, Leo III, in
the name of the Roman people, solemnly crowned Charlemagne at
Rome, as Emperor of the Roman Empire of the West. In Spain,
Charlemagne ruled the country between the Pyrenees and the Ebro;
but his most important conquests were effected on the eastern
side of his original kingdom, over the Sclavonians of Bohemia,
the Avars of Pannonia, and over the previously uncivilized German
tribes who had remained in their fatherland. The old Saxons were
his most obstinate antagonists, and his wars with them lasted for
thirty years. Under him the greater part of Germany was
compulsorily civilized, and converted from Paganism to
Christianity, His empire extended eastward as far as the Elbe,
the Saal, the Bohemian mountains, and a line drawn from thence
crossing the Danube above Vienna, and prolonged to the Gulf of
Istria. [Hallam's Middle Ages.]

Throughout this vast assemblage of provinces, Charlemagne

established an organized and firm government. But it is not as a
mere conqueror that he demands admiration. "In a life restlessly
active, we see him reforming the coinage, and establishing the
legal divisions of money, gathering about him the learned of
every country; founding schools and collecting libraries;
interfering, with the air of a king, in religious controversies;
attempting, for the sake of commerce, the magnificent enterprise
of uniting the Rhine and the Danube, and meditating to mould the
discordant code of Roman and barbarian laws into an uniform
system." [Hallam, UT SUPRA.]

814-888. Repeated partitions of the empire and civil wars

between Charlemagne's descendants. Ultimately, the kingdom of
France is finally separated from Germany and Italy. In 982, Otho
the Great, of Germany, revives the imperial dignity.

827. Egbert, king of Wessex, acquires the supremacy over the

Anglo-Saxon kingdoms.

832. The first Danish squadron attacks part of the English

coast. The Danes, or Northmen, had begun their ravages in France
a few years earlier. For two centuries Scandinavia sends out
fleet after fleet of sea-rovers, who desolate all the western
kingdoms of Europe, and in many cases effect permanent conquests.

871-900. Reign of Alfred in England. After a long and varied

struggle, he rescues England from the Danish invaders.

911, The French king cedes Neustria to Hrolf the Northman. Hrolf
(or Duke Rollo, as he thenceforth was termed) and his army of
Scandinavian warriors, become the ruling class of the population
of the province, which is called after them Normandy.

1016. Four knights from Normandy, who had been on a pilgrimage

to the Holy Land, while returning through Italy, head the people
of Salerno in repelling an attack of a band of Saracen corsairs.
In the next year many adventurers from Normandy settle in Italy,
where they conquer Apulia (1040), and afterwards (1060) Sicily.

1017. Canute, king of Denmark, becomes king of England. On the

death of the last of his sons, in 1041, the Saxon line is
restored, and Edward the Confessor (who had been bred in the
court of the Duke of Normandy), is called by the English to the
throne of this island, as the representative of the House of
Cerdic.

1035. Duke Robert of Normandy dies on his return from a

pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and his son William (afterwards the
conqueror of England) succeeds to the dukedom of Normandy.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS, 1066.

"Eis vos la Bataille assemblee,

Dunc encore est grant renomee."
ROMAN DE ROU, 1. 3183.

Arletta's pretty feet twinkling in the brook gained her a duke's

love, and gave us William the Conqueror. Had she not thus
fascinated Duke Robert, the Liberal, of Normandy, Harold would
not have fallen at Hastings, no Anglo-Norman dynasty could have
arisen, no British empire. The reflection is Sir Francis
Palgrave's: [History of Normandy and England, vol. i. p. 528.]
and it is emphatically true. If any one should write a history
of "Decisive loves that; have materially influenced the drama of
the world in all its subsequent scenes," the daughter of the
tanner of Falaise would deserve a conspicuous place in his pages.
But it is her son, the victor of Hastings, who is now the object
of our attention; and no one, who appreciates the influence of
England and her empire upon the destinies of the world, will ever
rank that victory as one of secondary importance.

It is true that in the last century some writers of eminence on

our history and laws mentioned the Norman Conquest in terms, from
which it might be supposed that the battle of Hastings led to
little more than the substitution of one royal family for another
on the throne of this country, and to the garbling and changing
of some of our laws through the "cunning of the Norman lawyers."
But, at least since the appearance of the work of Augustin
Thierry on the Norman Conquest, these forensic fallacies have
been exploded. Thierry made his readers keenly appreciate the
magnitude of that political and social catastrophe. He depicted
in vivid colours the atrocious cruelties of the conquerors, and
the sweeping and enduring innovations that they wrought,
involving the overthrow of the ancient constitution, as well as
of the last of the Saxon kings. In his pages we see new
tribunals and tenures superseding the old ones, new divisions of
race and class introduced, whole districts devastated to gratify
the vengeance or the caprice of the new tyrant, the greater part
of the lands of the English confiscated and divided among aliens,
the very name of Englishmen turned into a reproach, the English
language rejected as servile and barbarous, and all the high
places in Church and State for upwards of a century filled
exclusively by men of foreign race.
No less true than eloquent is Thierry's summing up of the social
effects of the Norman Conquest on the generation that witnessed
it, and on many of their successors. He tells his reader that
"if he would form a just idea of England conquered by William of
Normandy, he must figure to himself, not a mere change of
political rule, not the triumph of one candidate over another
candidate, of the man of one party over the man of another party;
but the intrusion of one people into the bosom of another people,
the violent placing of one society over another society, which it
came to destroy, and the scattered fragments of which it retained
only as personal property, or (to use the words of an old act) as
'the clothing of the soil:' he must not picture to himself on
the one hand, William, a king and a despot--on the other,
subjects of William's, high and low, rich and poor, all
inhabiting England, and consequently all English; but he must
imagine two nations, of one of which William is a member and the
chief--two nations which (if the term must be used) were both
subject to William, but as applied to which the word has quite
different senses, meaning in the one case subordinate, in the
other subjugated. He must consider that there are two countries,
two soils, included in the same geographical circumference; that
of the Normans rich and free, that of the Saxons poor and
serving, vexed by RENT and TAILLAGE; the former full of spacious
mansions, and walled and moated castles, the latter scattered
over with huts and straw, and ruined hovels; that peopled with
the happy and the idle, with men of the army and of the court,
with knights and nobles,--this with men of pain and labour, with
farmers and artizans: on the one side, luxury and insolence, on
the other, misery and envy--not the envy of the poor at the sight
of opulence they cannot reach, but the envy of the despoiled when
in presence of the despoilers."

Perhaps the effect of Thierry's work has been to cast into the
shade the ultimate good effects on England of the Norman
Conquest. Yet these are as undeniable as are the miseries which
that conquest inflicted on our Saxon ancestors from the time of
the battle of Hastings to the time of the signing of the Great
Charter at Runnymede. That last is the true epoch of English
nationality: it is the epoch when Anglo-Norman and Anglo-Saxon
ceased to keep aloof from each other, the one in haughty scorn,
the other in sullen abhorrence; and when all the free men of the
land; whether barons, knights, yeomen, or burghers, combined to
lay the foundations of English freedom.

Our Norman barons were the chiefs of that primary constitutional

movement; those "iron barons" whom Chatham has so nobly
eulogized. This alone should make England remember her
obligations to the Norman Conquest, which planted far and wide,
as a dominant class in her land, a martial nobility of the
bravest and most energetic race that ever existed.

It may sound paradoxical, but it is in reality no exaggeration to

say, with Guizot, [Essais sur l'Histoirs de France, p. 273, et
seq.] that England owes her liberties to her having been
conquered by the Normans. It is true that the Saxon institutions
were the primitive cradle of English liberty, but by their own
intrinsic force they could never have founded the enduring free
English constitution. It was the Conquest that infused into them
a new virtue; and the political liberties of England arose from
the situation in which the Anglo-Saxon and the Anglo-Norman
populations and laws found themselves placed relatively to each
other in this island. The state of England under her last Anglo-
Saxon kings closely resembled the state of France under the last
Carlovingian, and the first Capetian princes. The crown was
feeble, the great nobles were strong and turbulent. And although
there was more national unity in Saxon England than in France;
although the English local free institutions had more reality and
energy than was the case with anything analogous to them on the
Continent in the eleventh century, still the probability is that
the Saxon system of polity, if left to itself, would have fallen
into utter confusion, out of which would have arisen first an
aristocratic hierarchy like that which arose in France, next an
absolute monarchy, and finally a series of anarchical
revolutions, such as we now behold around, but not among us.
[See Guizot, UT SUPRA.]

The latest conquerors of this island were also the bravest and
the best. I do not except even the Romans. And, in spite of our
sympathies with Harold and Hereward, and our abhorrence of the
founder of the New Forest, and the desolator of Yorkshire, we
must confess the superiority of the Normans to the Anglo-Saxons
and Anglo-Danes, whom they met here in 1066, as well as to the
degenerate Frank noblesse and the crushed and servile Romanesque
provincials, from whom, in 912, they had wrested the district in
the north of Gaul which still bears the name of Normandy.

It was not merely by extreme valour and ready subordination or

military discipline, that the Normans were pre-eminent among all
the conquering races of the Gothic stock, but also by their
instinctive faculty of appreciating and adopting the superior
civilizations which they encountered. Thus Duke Rollo and his
Scandinavian warriors readily embraced the creed, the language,
the laws, and the arts which France, in those troubled and evil
times with which the Capetian dynasty commenced, still inherited
from imperial Rome and imperial Charlemagne. They adopted the
customs, the duties, the obedience that the capitularies of
emperors and kings had established; but that which they brought
to the application of those laws, was the spirit of life, the
spirit of liberty--the habits also of military subordination, and
the aptness for a state politic, which could reconcile the
security of all with the independence of each. [Sismondi,
Histoire des Francais, vol. iii. p. 174.] So also in all
chivalric feelings, in enthusiastic religious zeal, in almost
idolatrous respect to females of gentle birth, in generous
fondness for the nascent poetry of the time, in a keen
intellectual relish for subtle thought and disputation, in a
taste for architectural magnificence, and all courtly refinement
and pageantry, the Normans were the Paladins of the world. Their
brilliant qualities were sullied by many darker traits of pride,
of merciless cruelty, and of brutal contempt for the industry,
the rights, and the feelings of all whom they considered the
lower classes of mankind.

Their gradual blending with the Saxons softened these harsh and
evil points of their national character, and in return they fired
the duller Saxon mass with a new spirit of animation and power.
As Campbell boldly expressed it, "THEY HIGH-METTLED THE BLOOD OF
OUR VEINS." Small had been the figure which England made in the
world before the coming over of the Normans; and without them she
never would have emerged from insignificance. The authority of
Gibbon may be taken as decisive when he pronounces that,
"Assuredly England was a gainer by the Conquest." and we may
proudly adopt the comment of the Frenchman Rapin, who, writing of
the battle of Hastings more than a century ago, speaks of the
revolution effected by it, as "the first step by which England
has arrived to that height of grandeur and glory we behold it in
at present." [Rapin, Hist. England, p. 164. See also Sharon
Turner, vol. iv. p. 72; and, above all, Palgrave's Normandy and
England.]

The interest of this eventful struggle, by which William of

Normandy became King of England, is materially enhanced by the
high personal characters of the competitors for our crown. They
were three in number. One was a foreign prince from the North.
One was a foreign prince from the South: and one was a native
hero of the land. Harald Hardrada, the strongest and the most
chivalric of the kings of Norway, was the first; [See in Snerre
the Saga of Harald Hardrada.] Duke William of Normandy was the
second; and the Saxon Harold, the son of Earl Godwin, was the
third. Never was a nobler prize sought by nobler champions, or
striven for more gallantly. The Saxon triumphed over the
Norwegian, and the Norman triumphed over the Saxon: but Norse
valour was never more conspicuous than when Harald Hardrada and
his host fought and fell at Stamford Bridge; nor did Saxons ever
face their foes more bravely than our Harold and his men on the
fatal day of Hastings.

During the reign of King Edward the Confessor over this land, the
claims of the Norwegian king to our Crown were little thought of;
and though Hardrada's predecessor, King Magnus of Norway had on
one occasion asserted that, by virtue of a compact with our
former king, Hardicanute, he was entitled to the English throne,
no serious attempt had been made to enforce his pretensions. But
the rivalry of the Saxon Harold and the Norman William was
foreseen and bewailed by the Confessor, who was believed to have
predicted on his death-bed the calamities that were pending over
England. Duke William was King Edward's kinsman. Harold was the
head of the most powerful noble house, next to the royal blood,
in England; and personally, he was the bravest and most popular
chieftain in the land. King Edward was childless, and the
nearest collateral heir was a puny unpromising boy. England had
suffered too severely during royal minorities, to make the
accession of Edgar Atheling desirable; and long before King
Edward's death, Earl Harold was the destined king of the nation's
choice, though the favour of the Confessor was believed to lean
towards the Norman duke.

A little time before the death of King Edward, Harold was in

Normandy. The causes of the voyage of the Saxon earl to the
continent are doubtful; but the fact of his having been, in 1065,
at the ducal court, and in the power of his rival, is
indisputable. William made skilful and unscrupulous use of the
opportunity. Though Harold was treated with outward courtesy and
friendship, he was made fully aware that his liberty and life
depended on his compliance with the Duke's requests. William
said to him, in apparent confidence and cordiality, "When King
Edward and I once lived like brothers under the same roof, he
promised that if ever be became King of England, he would make me
heir to his throne. Harold, I wish that thou wouldst assist me
to realize this promise." Harold replied with expressions of
assent: and further agreed, at William's request, to marry
William's daughter Adela, and to send over his own sister to be
married to one of William's barons. The crafty Norman was not
content with this extorted promise; he determined to bind Harold
by a more solemn pledge, which if broken, would be a weight on
the spirit of the gallant Saxon, and a discouragement to others
from adopting his cause. Before a full assembly of the Norman
barons, Harold was required to do homage to Duke William, as the
heir-apparent of the English crown. Kneeling down, Harold placed
his hands between those of the Duke, and repeated the solemn
form, by which he acknowledged the Duke as his lord, and promised
to him fealty and true service. But William exacted more. He
had caused all the bones and relics of saints, that were
preserved in the Norman monasteries and churches, to be collected
into a chest, which was placed in the council-room, covered over
with a cloth of gold. On the chest of relics, which were thus
concealed, was laid a missal. The Duke then solemnly addressed
his titular guest and real captive, and said to him, "Harold, I
require thee, before this noble assembly, to confirm by oath the
promises which thou hast made me, to assist me in obtaining the
crown of England after King Edward's death, to marry my daughter
Adela, and to send me thy sister, that I may give her in marriage
to one of my barons." Harold, once more taken by surprise, and
not able to deny his former words, approached the missal, and
laid his hand on it, not knowing that the chest of relics was
beneath. The old Norman chronicler, who describes the scene most
minutely, [Wace, Roman de Rou. I have nearly followed his
words.] says, when Harold placed his hand on it, the hand
trembled, and the flesh quivered; but he swore, and promised upon
his oath, to take Ele [Adela] to wife, and to deliver up England
to the Duke, and thereunto to do all in his power, according to
his might and wit, after the death of Edward, if he himself
should live: so help him God. Many cried, "God grant it!" and
when Harold rose from his knees, the Duke made him stand close to
the chest, and took off the pall that had covered it, and showed
Harold upon what holy relics he had sworn; and Harold was sorely
alarmed at the sight.

Harold was soon, after this permitted to return to England; and,

after a short interval, during which he distinguished himself by
the wisdom and humanity with which he pacified some formidable
tumults of the Anglo-Danes in Northumbria, he found himself
called on to decide whether he would keep the oath which the
Norman had obtained from him, or mount the vacant throne of
England in compliance with the nation's choice. King Edward the
Confessor died on the 5th of January, 1066, and on the following
day an assembly of the thanes and prelates present in London, and
of the citizens of-the metropolis, declared that Harold should be
their king. It was reported that the dying Edward had nominated
him as his successor; but the sense which his countrymen
entertained of his pre-eminent merit was the true foundation of
his title to the crown. Harold resolved to disregard the oath
which he made in Normandy, as violent and void, and on the 7th
day of that January he was anointed King of England, and received
from the archbishop's hands the golden crown and sceptre of
England, and also an ancient national symbol, a weighty battle-
axe. He had deep and speedy need of this significant part of the
insignia of Saxon royalty.

A messenger from Normandy soon arrived to remind Harold of the

oath which he had sworn to the Duke "with his mouth, and his hand
upon good and holy relics." "It is true," replied the Saxon
king, "that I took an oath to William; but I took it under
constraint: I promised what did not belong to me--what I could
not in any way hold: my royalty is not my own; I could not lay
it down against the will of the country, nor can I against the
will of the country take a foreign wife. As for my sister, whom
the Duke claims that he may marry her to one of his chiefs, she
has died within the year; would he have me send her corpse?"

William sent another message, which met with a similar answer;

and then the Duke published far and wide through Christendom what
he termed the perjury and bad faith of his rival; and proclaimed
his intention of asserting his rights by the sword before the
year should expire, and of pursuing and punishing the perjurer
even in those places where he thought he stood most strongly and
most securely.

Before, however, he commenced hostilities, William, with deep

laid policy submitted his claims to the decision of the Pope.
Harold refused to acknowledge this tribunal, or to answer before
an Italian priest for his title as an English king. After a
formal examination of William's complaints by the Pope and the
cardinals, it was solemnly adjudged at Rome that England belonged
to the Norman duke; and a banner was sent to William from the
holy see, which the Pope himself had consecrated and blessed for
the invasion of this island. The clergy throughout the continent
were now assiduous and energetic in preaching up William's
enterprise as undertaken in the cause of God. Besides these
spiritual arms (the effect of which in the eleventh century must
not be measured by the philosophy or the indifferentism of the
nineteenth), the Norman duke applied all the energies of his mind
and body, all the resources of his duchy, and all the influence
he possessed among vassals or allies, to the collection of "the
most remarkable and formidable armament which the Western nations
had witnessed." [Sir James Mackintosh's History of England, vol.
i. p. 97.] All the adventurous spirits of Christendom flocked
to the holy banner, under which Duke William, the most renowned
knight and sagest general of the age, promised to lead them to
glory and wealth in the fair domains of England. His army was
filled with the chivalry of continental Europe, all eager to save
their souls by fighting at the Pope's bidding, ardent to
signalise their valour in so great an enterprise, and longing
also for the pay and the plunder which William liberally
promised. But the Normans themselves were the pith and the
flower of the army; and William himself was the strongest, the
sagest, and fiercest spirit of them all.

Throughout the spring and summer of 1066, all the seaports of

Normandy, Picardy, and Brittany rang with the busy sound of
preparation. On the opposite side of the Channel, King Harold
collected the army and the fleet with which he hoped to crush the
southern invaders. But the unexpected attack of King Harald
Hardrada of Norway upon another part of England, disconcerted the
skilful measures which the Saxon had taken against the menacing
armada of Duke William.

Harold's renegade brother, Earl Tostig, had excited the Norse

king to this enterprise, the importance of which has naturally
been eclipsed by the superior interest attached to the victorious
expedition of Duke William, but which was on a scale of grandeur
which the Scandinavian ports had rarely, if ever, before
witnessed. Hardrada's fleet consisted of two hundred war-ships,
and three hundred other vessels, and all the best warriors of
Norway were in his host. He sailed first to the Orkneys, where
many of the islanders joined him, and then to Yorkshire. After a
severe conflict near York, he completely routed Earls Edwin and
Morcar, the governors of Northumbria. The city of York opened
its gates, and all the country, from the Tyne to the Humber,
submitted to him. The tidings of the defeat of Edwin and Morcar
compelled Harold to leave his position an the southern coast, and
move instantly against the Norwegians. By a remarkably rapid,
march, he reached Yorkshire in four days, and took the Norse king
and his confederates by surprise. Nevertheless, the battle which
ensued, and which was fought near Stamford Bridge, was desperate,
and was long doubtful. Unable to break the ranks of the
Norwegian phalanx by force, Harold at length tempted them to quit
their close order by a pretended flight. Then the English
columns burst in among them, and a carnage ensued, the extent of
which may be judged of by the exhaustion and inactivity of Norway
for a quarter of a century afterwards. King Harald Hardrada, and
all the flower of his nobility, perished on the 25th of
September, 1066, at Stamford Bridge; a battle which was a Flodden
to Norway.

Harold's victory was splendid; but he had bought it dearly by the

fall of many of his best officers and men; and still more dearly
by the opportunity which Duke William had gained of effecting an
unopposed landing on the Sussex coast. The whole of William's
shipping had assembled at the mouth of the Dive, a little river
between the Seine and the Orme, as early as the middle of August.
The army which he had collected, amounted to fifty thousand
knights, and ten thousand soldiers of inferior degree. Many of
the knights were mounted, but many must have served on foot; as
it is hardly possible to believe that William could have found
transports for the conveyance of fifty thousand war-horses across
the Channel. For a long time the winds were adverse; and the
Duke employed the interval that passed before he could set sail
in completing the organization and in improving the discipline of
his army; which he seems to have brought into the same state of
perfection, as was seven centuries and a half afterwards the
boast of another army assembled on the same coast, and which
Napoleon designed (but providentially in vain) for a similar
descent upon England.

It was not till the approach of the equinox that the wind veered
from the north-east to the west, and gave the Normans an
opportunity of quitting the weary shores of the Dive. They
eagerly embarked, and set sail; but the wind soon freshened to a
gale, and drove them along the French coast to St. Valery, where
the greater part of them found shelter; but many of their vessels
were wrecked and the whole coast of Normandy was strewn with the
bodies of the drowned. William's army began to grow discouraged
and averse to the enterprise, which the very elements thus seemed
to fight against; though in reality the north-east wind which had
cooped them so long at the mouth of the Dive, and the western
gale which had forced them into St. Valery, were the best
possible friends to the invaders. They prevented the Normans
from crossing the Channel until the Saxon king and his army of
defence had been called away from the Sussex coast to encounter
Harald Hardrada in Yorkshire: and also until a formidable
English fleet, which by King Harold's orders had been cruising in
the Channel to intercept the Normans, had been obliged to
disperse temporarily for the purpose of refitting and taking in
fresh stores of provisions.

Duke William used every expedient to re-animate the drooping

spirits of his men at St. Valery; and at last he caused the body
of the patron saint of the place to be exhumed and carried in
solemn procession, while the whole assemblage of soldiers,
mariners, and appurtenant priests implored the saint's
intercession for a change of wind. That very night the wind
veered, and enabled the mediaeval Agamemnon to quit his Aulia.

With full sails, and a following southern breeze, the Norman

armada left the French shores and steered for England. The
invaders crossed an undefended sea, and found an undefended
coast. It was in Pevensey Bay in Sussex, at Bulverhithe, between
the castle of Pevensey and Hastings, that the last conquerors of
this island landed, on the 29th of September, 1066.

Harold was at York, rejoicing over his recent victory, which had
delivered England from her ancient Scandinavian foes, and
resettling the government of the counties which Harald Hardrada
had overrun, when the tidings reached him that Duke William of
Normandy and his host had landed on the Sussex shore. Harold
instantly hurried southward to meet this long-expected enemy.
The severe loss which his army had sustained in the battle with
the Norwegians must have made it impossible for any large number
of veteran troops to accompany him in his forced march to London,
and thence to Sussex. He halted at the capital only six days;
and during that time gave orders for collecting forces from his
southern and midland counties, and also directed his fleet to
reassemble off the Sussex coast. Harold was well received in
London, and his summons to arms was promptly obeyed by citizen,
by thane, by sokman, and by ceorl; for he had shown himself
during his brief reign a just and wise king, affable to all men,
active for the good of his country, and (in the words of the old
historian) sparing himself from no fatigue by land or sea. [See
Roger de Hoveden and William of Malmesbury, cited in Thierry,
book iii.] He might have gathered a much more numerous force
than that of William, but his recent victory had made, him over-
confident, and he was irritated by the reports of the country
being ravaged by the invaders. As soon therefore, as he had
collected a small army in London, he marched off towards the
coast: pressing forward as rapidly as his men could traverse
Surrey and Sussex in the hope of taking the Normans unawares, as
he had recently by a similar forced march succeeded in surprising
the Norwegians. But he had now to deal with a foe equally brave
with Harald Hardrada, and far more skilful and wary.

The old Norman chroniclers describe the preparations of William

on his landing, with a graphic vigour, which would be wholly lost
by transfusing their racy Norman couplets and terse Latin prose
into the current style of modern history. It is best to follow
them closely, though at the expense of much quaintness and
occasional uncouthness of expression. They tell us how Duke
William's own ship was the first of the Norman fleet. "It was
called the Mora, and was the gift of his duchess, Matilda. On
the head of the ship in the front, which mariners call the prow,
there was a brazen child bearing an arrow with a bended bow. His
face was turned towards England, and thither he looked, as though
he was about to shoot. The breeze became soft and sweet, and the
sea was smooth for their landing. The ships ran on dry land, and
each ranged by the other's side. There you might see the good
sailors, the sergeants, and squires sally forth and unload the
ships; cast the anchors, haul the ropes, bear out shields and
saddles, and land the war-horses and palfreys. The archers came
forth, and touched land the first, each with his bow strong and
with his quiver full of arrows, slung at his side. All were
shaven and shorn; and all clad in short garments, ready to
attack, to shoot, to wheel about and skirmish. All stood well
equipped, and of good courage for the fight; and they scoured the
whole shore, but found not an armed man there. After the archers
had thus gone forth, the knights landed all armed, with their
hauberks on, their shields slung at their necks, and their
helmets laced. They formed together on the shore, each armed,
and mounted on his war-horse: all had their swords girded on,
and rode forward into the country with their lances raised. Then
the carpenters landed, who had great axes in their hands, and
planes and adzes hung at their sides. They took counsel
together, and sought for a good spot to place a castle on. They
had brought with them in the fleet, three wooden castles from
Normandy, in pieces, all ready for framing together, and they
took the materials of one of these out of the ships, all shaped
and pierced to receive the pins which they had brought cut and
ready in large barrels; and before evening had set in, they had
finished a good fort on the English ground, and there they placed
their stores. All then ate and drank enough, and were right glad
that they were ashore.

"When Duke William himself landed, as he stepped on the shore, he

slipped and fell forward upon his two hands. Forthwith all
raised a loud cry of distress. 'An evil sign,' said they, 'is
here.' But he cried out lustily, 'See, my lords! by the
splendour of God, [William's customary oath.] I have taken
possession of England with both my hands. It is now mine; and
what is mine is yours.'

"The next day they marched along the sea-shore to Hastings. Near
that place the Duke fortified a camp, and set up the two other
wooden castles. The foragers, and those who looked out for
booty, seized all the clothing and provisions they could find,
lest what had been brought by the ships should fail them. And
the English were to be seen fleeing before them, driving off
their cattle, and quitting their houses. Many took shelter in
burying-places, and even there they were in grievous alarm."

Besides the marauders from the Norman camp, strong bodies of

cavalry were detached by William into the country, and these,
when Harold and his army made their rapid march from London
southward, fell, back in good order upon the main body of the
Normans, and reported that the Saxon king was rushing on like a
madman. But Harold, when he found that his hopes of surprising
his adversary were vain changed his tactics, and halted about
seven miles from the Norman lines. He sent some spies, who spoke
the French language, to examine the number and preparations of
the enemy, who, on their return, related with astonishment that
there were more priests in William's camp than there were
fighting men in the English army. They had mistaken for priests
all the Norman soldiers who had short hair and shaven chins; for
the English layman were then accustomed to wear long hair and
mustachios, Harold, who knew the Norman usages, smiled at their
words and said, "Those whom you have seen in such numbers are not
priests, but stout soldiers, as they will soon make us feel."

Harold's army was far inferior in number to that of the Normans,

and some of his captains advised him to retreat upon London, and
lay waste the country, so as to starve down the strength, of the
invaders. The policy thus recommended was unquestionably the
wisest; for the Saxon fleet had now reassembled, and intercepted
all William's communications with Normandy; so that as soon as
his stores of provisions were exhausted he must have moved
forward upon London; where Harold, at the head of the full
military strength of the kingdom, could have defied his assault,
and probably might have witnessed his rival's destruction by
famine and disease, without having to strike a single blow. But
Harold's bold blood was up, and his kindly heart could not endure
to inflict on his South Saxon subjects even the temporary misery
of wasting the country. "He would not burn houses and villages,
neither would he take away the substance of his people."

Harold's brothers, Gurth and Leofwine, were with him in the camp,
and Gurth endeavoured to persuade him to absent himself from the
battle. The incident shows how well devised had been William's
scheme of binding Harold by the oath on the holy relics. "My
brother", said the young Saxon prince, "thou canst not deny that
either by force or free-will thou hast made Duke William an oath
on the bodies of saints. Why then risk thyself in the battle
with a perjury upon thee? To us, who have sworn nothing, this is
a holy and a just war, for we are fighting for our country.
Leave us then, alone to fight this battle, and he who has the
right will win." Harold replied that he would not look on while
others risked their lives for him. Men would hold him a coward,
and blame him for sending his best friends where he dared not go
himself. He resolved, therefore, to fight, and to fight in
person: but he was still too good a general to be the assailant
in the action. He strengthened his position on the hill where he
had halted, by a palisade of stakes interlaced with osier
hurdles, and there, he said, he would defend himself against
whoever should seek him.
The ruins of Battle Abbey at this hour attest the place where
Harold's army was posted. The high altar of the abbey stood on
the very spot where Harold's own standard was planted during the
fight, and where the carnage was the thickest. Immediately after
his victory William vowed to build an abbey on the site; and a
fair and stately pile soon rose there, where for many ages the
monks prayed, and said masses for the souls of those who were
slain in the battle, whence the abbey took its name. Before that
time the place was called Senlac. Little of the ancient edifice
now remains: but it is easy to trace among its relics and in the
neighbourhood the scenes of the chief incidents in the action;
and it is impossible to deny the generalship shown by Harold in
stationing his men; especially when we bear in mind that he was
deficient in cavalry, the arm in which his adversary's main
strength consisted.

A neck of hills trends inwards for nearly seven miles from the
high ground immediately to the north-east of Hastings. The line
of this neck of hills is from south-east to north-west, and the
usual route from Hastings to London must, in ancient as in modern
times, have been along its summits. At the distance from
Hastings which has been mentioned, the continuous chain of hills
ceases. A valley must be crossed, and on the other side of it,
opposite to the last of the neck of hills, rises a high ground of
some extent, facing to the south-east. This high ground, then
termed Senlac, was occupied by Harold's army. It could not be
attacked in front without considerable disadvantage to the
assailants, and could hardly be turned without those engaged in
the manoeuvre exposing themselves to a fatal charge in flank,
while they wound round the base of the height, and underneath the
ridges which project from it on either side. There was a rough
and thickly-wooded district in the rear, which seemed to offer
Harold great facilities for rallying his men, and checking the
progress of the enemy, if they should succeed in forcing him back
from his post. And it seemed scarcely possible that the Normans,
if they met with any repulse, could save themselves from utter
destruction. With such hopes and expectations (which cannot be
termed unreasonable, though "Successum Dea dira negavit,") King
Harold bade his standard be set up a little way down the slope of
Senlac-hill, at the point where the ascent from the valley was
least steep, and on which the fiercest attacks of the advancing
enemy were sure to be directed.

The foundation-stones of the high altar of Battle Abbey have,

during late years, been discovered; and we may place our feet on
the very spot where Harold stood with England's banner waving
over him; where, when the battle was joined, he defended himself
to the utmost; where the fatal arrow came down on him; where he
"leaned in agony on his shield;" and where at last he was beaten
to the earth, and with him the Saxon banner was beaten down, like
him never to rise again. The ruins of the altar are a little to
the west of the high road, which leads from Hastings along the
neck of hills already described, across the valley, and through
the modern town of Battle, towards London. Before a railway was
made along this valley, some of the old local features were more
easy than now to recognise. The eye then at once saw that the
ascent from the valley was least steep at the point which Harold
selected for his own post in the engagement. But this is still
sufficiently discernible; and we can fix the spot, a little lower
down the slope, immediately in front of the high altar, where the
brave Kentish men stood, "whose right it was to strike first when
ever the king went to battle," and who, therefore, were placed
where the Normans would be most likely to make their first
charge. Round Harold himself, and where the plantations wave
which now surround the high altar's ruins, stood the men of
London, "whose privilege it was to guard the king's body, to
place themselves around it, and to guard his standard." On the
right and left were ranged the other warriors of central and
southern England, whose shires the old Norman chronicler distorts
in his French nomenclature. Looking thence in the direction of
Hastings, we can distinguish the "ridge of the rising ground over
which the Normans appeared advancing." It is the nearest of the
neck of hills. It is along that hill that Harold and his
brothers saw approach in succession the three divisions of the
Norman army. The Normans came down that slope, and then formed
in the valley, so as to assault the whole front of the English
position. Duke William's own division, with "the best men and
greatest strength of the army, made the Norman centre, and
charged the English immediately in front of Harold's banner, as
the nature of the ground had led the Saxon king to anticipate.

There are few battles the localities of which can be more

completely traced; and the whole scene is fraught with
associations of deep interest: but the spot which, most of all,
awakens our sympathy and excites our feelings, is that where
Harold himself fought and fell. The crumbling fragments of the
grey altar-stones, with the wild flowers that cling around their
base, seem fitting memorials of the brave Saxon who there bowed
his head in death; while the laurel-trees that are planted near,
and wave over the ruins, remind us of the Conqueror, who there,
at the close of that dreadful day, reared his victorious standard
high over the trampled banner of the Saxon, and held his
triumphant carousal amid the corses of the slain, with his Norman
chivalry exulting around him.

When it was known in the invaders' camp at Hastings that King

Harold had marched southward with his power, but a brief interval
ensued before the two hosts met in decisive encounter.

William's only chance of safety lay in bringing on a general

engagement; and he joyfully advanced his army from their camp on
the hill over Hastings, nearer to the Saxon position. But he
neglected no means of weakening his opponent, and renewed his
summonses and demands on Harold with an ostentatious air of
sanctity and moderation.

"A monk named Hugues Maigrot came in William's name to call upon
the Saxon king to do one of three things--either to resign his
royalty in favour of William, or to refer it to the arbitration
of the Pope to decide which of the two ought to be king, or to
let it be determined by the issue of a single combat. Harold
abruptly replied, 'I will not resign my title, I will not refer
it to the Pope, nor will I accept the single combat.' He was far
from being deficient in bravery; but he was no more at liberty to
stake the crown which he had received from a whole people on the
chance of a duel, than to deposit it in the hands of an Italian
priest. William was not at all ruffled by the Saxon's refusal,
but steadily pursuing the course of his calculated measures, sent
the Norman monk again, after giving him these instructions:--'Go
and tell Harold, that if he will keep his former compact with me,
I will leave to him all the country which is beyond the Humber,
and will give his brother Gurth all the lands which Godwin held.
If he still persist in refusing my offers, then thou shalt tell
him, before all his people, that he is a perjurer and a liar;
that he, and all who shall support him, are excommunicated by the
mouth of the Pope; and that the bull to that effect is in my
hands.'

"Hugues Maigrot delivered this message in a solemn tone; and the

Norman chronicle says that at the word EXCOMMUNICATION, the
English chiefs looked at one another as if some great danger were
impending. One of them then spoke as follows: 'We must fight,
whatever may be the danger to us; for what we have to consider is
not whether we shall accept and receive a new lord as if our king
were dead: the case is quite otherwise. The Norman has given
our lands to his captains, to his knights, to all his people, the
greater part of whom have already done homage to him for them;
they will all look for their gift, if their Duke become our king;
and he himself is bound to deliver up to them our goods, our
wives, and our daughters: all is promised to them beforehand.
They come, not only to ruin us, but to ruin our descendants also,
and to take from us the country of our ancestors and what shall
we do--whither shall we go--when we have no longer a country?'
The English promised by a unanimous oath, to make neither peace,
nor truce nor treaty, with the invader, but to die, or drive away
the Normans." [Thierry.]

The 13th of October was occupied in these negotiations; and at

night the Duke announced to his men that the next day would, be
the day of battle. That night is said to have been passed by the
two armies in very different manners. The Saxon soldiers spent
it in joviality, singing their national songs, and draining huge
horns of ale and wine round their camp-fires. The Normans, when
they had looked to their arms and horses, confessed themselves to
the priests, with whom their camp was thronged, and received the
sacrament by thousands at a time.

On Saturday, the 14th of October, was fought the great battle.

It is not difficult to compose a narrative of its principal

incidents, from the historical information which we possess,
especially if aided by an examination of the ground. But it is
far better to adopt the spirit-stirring words of the old
chroniclers, who wrote while the recollections of the battle were
yet fresh, and while the feelings and prejudices of the
combatants yet glowed in the bosoms of their near descendants.
Robert Wace, the Norman poet, who presented his "Roman de Rou" to
our Henry II., is the most picturesque and animated of the old
writers; and from him we can obtain a more vivid and full
description of the conflict, than even the most brilliant
romance-writer of the present time can supply. We have also an
antique memorial of the battle, more to be relied on than either
chronicler or poet (and which confirms Wace's narrative
remarkably), in the celebrated Bayeux tapestry, which represents
the principal scenes of Duke William's expedition, and of the
circumstances connected with it, in minute though occasionally
grotesque details, and which was undoubtedly the production of
the same age in which the battle took place; whether we admit or
reject the legend that Queen Matilda and the ladies of her court
wrought it with their own hands in honour of the royal Conqueror.

Let us therefore suffer the old Norman chronicler to transport

our imaginations to the fair Sussex scenery, north-west of
Hastings, with its breezy uplands, its grassy slopes, and ridges
of open down swelling inland from the sparkling sea, its
scattered copses, and its denser glades of intervening forests,
clad in all the varied tints of autumn, as they appeared on the
morning of the fourteenth of October, seven hundred and eighty-
five years ago. The Norman host is pouring forth from its tents;
and each troop, and each company, is forming fast under the
banner of its leader. The masses have been sung, which were
finished betimes in the morning; the barons have all assembled
round Duke William; and the Duke has ordered that the army shall
be formed in three divisions, so as to make the attack upon the
Saxon position in three places. The Duke stood on a hill where
he could best see his men; the barons surrounded him, and he
spake to them proudly. He told them how he trusted them, and how
all that he gained should be theirs; and how sure he felt of
conquest, for in all the world there was not so brave an army or
such good men and true as were then forming around him. Then
they cheered him in turn, and cried out, "'You will not see one
coward; none here will fear to die for love of you, if need be.'
And he answered them, 'I thank you well. For God's sake spare
not; strike hard at the beginning; stay not to take spoil; all
the booty shall be in common, and there will be plenty for
everyone. There will be no safety in asking quarter or in fight:
the English will never love or spare a Norman. Felons they were,
and felons they are; false they were, and false they will be.
Show no weakness towards them, for they will have no pity on you.
Neither the coward for running well, nor the bold man for smiting
well, will be the better liked by the English, nor will any be
the more spared on either account. You may fly to the sea, but
you can fly no further; you will find neither ships nor bridge
there; there will be no sailors to receive you; and the English
will overtake you there and slay you in your shame. More of you
will die in flight than in the battle. Then, as flight will not
secure you, fight, and you will conquer. I have no doubt of the
victory: we are come for glory, the victory is in our hands, and
we may make sure of obtaining it if we so please.' As the Duke
was speaking thus, and would yet have spoken more, William Fitz
Osber rode up with his horse all coated with iron: 'Sire,' said
he, 'we tarry here too long, let us all arm ourselves. ALLONS!
ALLONS!'

"Then all went to their tents and armed themselves as they best
might; and the Duke was very busy, giving every one his orders;
and he was courteous to all the vassals, giving away many arms
and horses to them. When he prepared to arm himself, he called
first for his good hauberk, and a man brought it on his arm, and
placed it before him, but in putting his head in, to get it on,
he unawares turned it the wrong way, with the back part in front.
He soon changed it, but when he saw that those who stood by were
sorely alarmed, he said, 'I have seen many a man who, if such a
thing had happened to him, would not have borne arms, or entered
the field the same day; but I never believed in omens, and I
never will. I trust in God, for He does in all things His
pleasure, and ordains what is to come to pass, according to His
will. I have never liked fortune-tellers, nor believed in
diviners; but I commend myself to our Lady. Let not this
mischance give you trouble. The hauberk which was turned wrong,
and then set right by me, signifies that a change will arise out
of the matter which we are now stirring. You shall see the name
of duke changed into king. Yea, a king shall I be, who hitherto
have been but duke.' Then he crossed himself and straightway took
his hauberk, stooped his head, and put it on aright, and laced
his helmet, and girt on his sword, which a varlet brought him.
Then the Duke called for his good horse--a better could not be
found. It had been sent him by a king of Spain, out of very
great friendship. Neither arms nor the press of fighting men did
it fear, if its lord spurred it on. Walter Giffard brought it.
The Duke stretched out his hand, took the reins, put foot in
stirrup, and mounted; and the good horse pawed, pranced, reared
himself up, and curvetted. The Viscount of Toarz saw how the
Duke bore himself in arms, and said to his people that were
around him, 'Never have I seen a man so fairly armed, nor one who
rods so gallantly, or bore his arms or became his hauberk so
well; neither any one who bore his lance so gracefully, or sat
his horse and managed him so nobly. There is no such knight
under heaven! a fair count he is, and fair king he will be. Let
him fight, and he shall overcome: shame be to the man who shall
fail him.'

"Then the Duke called for the standard which the Pope had sent
him, and he who bore it having unfolded it, the Duke took it,
and, called to Raol de Conches. 'Bear my standard,' said he,
'for I would not but do you right; by right and by ancestry your
line are standard-bearers of Normandy, and very good knights have
they all been.' But Raol said that he would serve the Duke that
day in other guise, and would fight the English with his hand as
long as life should last. Then the Duke bade Galtier Giffart
bear the standard. But he was old and white-headed, and bade the
Duke give the standard to some younger and stronger man to carry.
Then the Duke said fiercely, 'By the splendour of God, my lords,
I think you mean to betray and fail me in this great need.'--
'Sire,' said Giffart, 'not so! we have done no treason, nor do I
refuse from any felony towards you; but I have to lead a great
chivalry, both hired men and the men of my fief. Never had I
such good means of serving you as I now have; and if God please,
I will serve you; if need be, I will die for you, and will give
my own heart for yours.

"'By my faith,' quoth the Duke, 'I always loved thee, and now I
love thee more; if I survive this day, thou shalt be the better
for it all thy days.' Then he called out a knight, whom he had
heard much praised, Tosteins Fitz-Rou le Blanc by name, whose
abode was at Bec-en-Caux. To him he delivered the standard; and
Tosteins took it right cheerfully, and bowed low to him in
thanks, and bore it gallantly, and with good heart. His kindred
still have quittance of all service for their inheritance on that
account, and their heirs are entitled so to hold their
inheritance for ever.

"William sat on his war-horse, and called on Rogier, whom they

call De Mongomeri. 'I rely much upon you,' said he: 'lead your
men thitherward, and attack them from that side. William, the
son of Osber the seneschal, a right good vassal, shall go with
you and help in the attack, and you shall have the men of
Boulogne and Poix, and all my soldiers. Alain Fergert and Ameri
shall attack on the other side; they shall lead the Poitevins and
the Bretons, and all the Barons of Maine; and I, with my own
great men, my friends and kindred, will fight in the middle
throng, where the battle shall be the hottest.'

"The barons, and knights, and men-at-arms were all now armed; the
foot-soldiers were well equipped, each bearing bow and sword; on
their heads were caps, and to their feet were bound buskins.
Some had good hides which they had bound round their bodies; and
many were clad in frocks, and had quivers and bows hung to their
girdles. The knights had hauberks and swords, boots of steel and
shining helmets; shields at their necks, and in their hands
lances. And all had their cognizances, so that each might know
his fellow, and Norman might not strike Norman, nor Frenchman
kill his countryman by mistake. Those on foot led the way, with
serried ranks, bearing their bows. The knights rode next,
supporting the archers from behind. Thus both horse and foot
kept their course and order of march as they began; in close
ranks at a gentle pace, that the one might not pass or separate
from the other. All went firmly and compactly, bearing
themselves gallantly.

"Harold had summoned his men, earls, barons, and vavassours,

from, the castles and the cities; from the ports, the villages,
and boroughs. The peasants were also called together from the
villages, bearing such arms as they found; clubs and great picks,
iron forge and stages. The English had enclosed the place where
Harold was, with his friends and the barons of the country whom
he had summoned and called together.

"Those of London had come at once, and those of Kent, Hartfort,

and of Essesse; those of Suree and Susesse, of St. Edmund and
Sufoc; of Norwis and Norfoc; of Cantorbierre and Stanfort
Bedefort and Hundetone. The men of Northanton also came; and
those of Eurowic and Bokingkeham, of Bed and Notinkeham, Lindesie
and Nichole. There came also from the west all, who heard the
summons; and very many were to be seen coming from Salebiere and
Dorset, from Bat and from Somerset. Many came, too, from about
Glocestre, and many from Wirecestre, from Wincestre, Hontesire,
and Brichesire; and many more from other counties that we have
not named, and cannot indeed recount. All who could bear arms,
and had learnt the news of the Duke's arrival, came to defend the
land. But none came from beyond Humbre, for they had other
business upon their hands; the Danes and Tosti having much
damaged and weakened them.

"Harold knew that the Normans would come and attack him hand to
hand; so he had early enclosed the field in which he placed his
men. He made them arm early, and range themselves for the
battle; he himself having put on arms and equipments that became
such a lord. The Duke, he said, ought to seek him, as he wanted
to conquer England; and it became him to abide the attack who had
to defend the land. He commanded the people, and counselled his
barons to keep themselves altogether, and defend themselves in a
body; for if they once separated, they would with difficulty
recover themselves. 'The Normans,' he said, 'are good vassals,
valiant on foot and on horseback; good knights are they on
horseback, and well used to battle; all is lost if they once
penetrate our ranks. They have brought long lances and swords,
but you have pointed lances and keen-edged bills; and I do not
expect that their arms can stand against yours. Cleave wherever
you can; it will be ill done if you spare aught.'

"The English had built up a fence before them with their shields,
and with ash and other wood; and had well joined and wattled in
the whole work, so as not to leave even a crevice; and thus they
had a barricade in their front, through which any Norman who
would attack them must first pass. Being covered in this way by
their shields and barricades, their aim was to defend themselves:
and if they had remained steady for that purpose, they would not
have been conquered that day; for every Norman who made his way
in, lost his life, either by hatchet, or bill, by club, or other
weapons. They wore short and close hauberks, and helmets that
hung over their garments. King Harold issued orders and made
proclamation round, that all should be ranged with their faces
towards the enemy; and that no one should move from where he was;
so that, whoever came, might find them ready; and that whatever
any one, be he Norman or other, should do, each should do his
best to defend his own place. Then he ordered the men of Kent to
go where the Normans were likely to make the attack; for they say
that the men of Kent are entitled to strike first; and that
whenever the king goes to battle, the first blow belongs to them.
The right of the men of London is to guard the king's body, to
place themselves around him, and to guard his standard; and they
were accordingly placed by the standard to watch and defend it.

"When Harold had made his reply, and given his orders, he came
into the midst of the English, and dismounted by the side of the
standard: Leofwin and Gurth, his brothers, were with him, and
around him he had barons enough, as he stood by his standard,
which was in truth a noble one, sparkling with gold and precious
stones. After the victory, William sent it to the Pope, to prove
and commemorate his great conquest and glory. The English stood
in close ranks, ready and eager for the fight; and they moreover
made a fosse, which went across the field, guarding one side of
their army,

"Meanwhile the Normans appeared advancing over the ridge of a

rising ground; and the first division of their troops moved
onwards along the hill and across a vallley. And presently
another division, still larger, came in sight, close following
upon the first, and they were led towards another part of the
field, forming together as the first body had done. And while
Harold saw and examined them, and was pointing them out to Gurth,
a fresh company came in sight, covering all the plain; and in the
midst of them was raised the standard that came from Rome. Near
it was the Duke, and the best men and greatest strength of the
army were there. The good knights, the good vassals, and brave
warriors were there; and there were gathered together the gentle
barons, the good archers, and the men-at-arms, whose duty it was
to guard the Duke, and range themselves around him. The youths
and common herd of the camp, whose business was not to join in
the battle, but to take care of the harness and stores, moved on
towards a rising ground. The priests and the clerks also
ascended a hill, there to offer up prayers to God, and watch the
event of the battle.

"The English stood firm on foot in close ranks, and carried

themselves right boldly. Each man had his hauberk on, with his
sword girt, and his shield at his neck. Great hatchets were also
slung at their necks, with which they expected to strike heavy
blows.

"The Normans brought on the three divisions of their army to

attack at different places. They set out in three companies, and
in three companies did they fight. The first and second had come
up, and then advanced the third, which was the greatest; with
that came the Duke with his own men, and all moved boldly
forward.

"As soon as the two armies were in full view of each other, great
noise and tumult arose. You might hear the sound of many
trumpets, of bugles, and of horns: and then you might see men
ranging themselves in line, lifting their shields, raising their
lances, bending their bows, handling their arrows, ready for
assault and defence.

"The English stood ready to their post, the Normans still moved
on; and when they drew near, the English were to be seen stirring
to and fro; were going and coming; troops ranging themselves in
order; some with their colour rising, others turning pale; some
making ready their arms, others raising their shields; the brave
man rousing himself to fight, the coward trembling at the
approach of danger.

"Then Taillefer, who sang right well, rode mounted on a swift

horse, before the Duke, singing of Charlemagne and of Roland, of
Olivier and the Peers who died in Roncesvalles. and when they
drew nigh to the English, 'A boon, sire !' cried Taillefer; 'I
have long served you, and you owe me for all such service. To-
day, so please you, you shall repay it. I ask as my guerdon, and
beseech you for it earnestly, that you will allow me to strike
the first blow in the battle!' And the Duke answered, 'I grant
it.' Then Taillefer put his horse to a gallop, charging before
all the rest, and struck an Englishman dead, driving his lance
below the breast into his body, and stretching him upon the
ground. Then he drew his sword, and struck another, crying out,
'Come on, come on! What do ye, sirs! lay on, lay on!' At the
second blow he struck, the English pushed forward, and surrounded
and slew him. Forthwith arose the noise and cry of war, and on
either side the people put themselves in motion.

"The Normans moved on to the assault, and the English defended

themselves well. Some were striking, others urging onwards; all
were bold, and cast aside fear. And now, behold, that battle was
gathered, whereof the fame is yet mighty.
"Loud and far resounded the bray of the horns; and the shocks of
the lances, the mighty strokes of maces, and the quick clashing
of swords. One while the Englishmen rushed on, another while
they fell back; one while the men from over the sea charged
onwards, and again at other times retreated. The Normans shouted
'Dex aie,' the English people 'Out.' Then came the cunning
manoeuvres, the rude shocks and strokes of the lance and blows of
the swords, among the sergeants and soldiers, both English and
Norman.

"When the English fall, the Normans shout. Each side taunts and
defies the other, yet neither knoweth what the other saith; and
the Normans say the English bark, because they understand not
their speech.

"Some wax strong, others weak: the brave exult, but the cowards
tremble, as men who are sore dismayed. The Normans press on the
assault, and the English defend their post well: they pierce the
hauberks, and cleave the shields, receive and return mighty
blows. Again, some press forwards, others yield; and thus in
various ways the struggle proceeds. In the plain was a fosse,
which the Normans had now behind them, having passed it in the
fight without regarding it. But the English charged, and drove
the Normans before them till they made them fall back upon this
fosse, overthrowing into it horses and men. Many were to be seen
falling therein, rolling one over the other, with their faces to
the earth, and unable to rise. Many of the English, also, whom
the Normans drew down along with them, died there. At no time
during the day's battle did so many Normans die as perished in
that fosse. So those said who saw the dead.

"The varlets who were set to guard the harness began to abandon
it as they saw the loss of the Frenchmen, when thrown back upon
the fosse without power to recover themselves. Being greatly
alarmed at seeing the difficulty in restoring order, they began
to quit the harness, and sought around, not knowing where to find
shelter. Then Duke William's brother, Odo, the good priest, the
Bishop of Bayeux, galloped up, and said to them, 'Stand fast!
stand fast! be quiet and move not! fear nothing, for if God
please, we shall conquer yet.' So they took courage, and rested
where they were; and Odo returned galloping back to where the
battle was most fierce, and was of great service on that day. He
had put hauberk on, over a white aube, wide in the body, with the
sleeve tight; and sat on a white horse, so that all might
recognise him. In his hand he held a mace, and wherever he saw
most need he held up and stationed the knights, and often urged
them on to assault and strike the enemy.

"From nine o'clock in the morning, when the combat began, till
three o'clock came, the battle was up and down, this way and
that, and no one knew who would conquer and win the land. Both
sides stood so firm and fought so well, that no one could guess
which would prevail. The Norman archers with their bows shot
thickly upon the English; but they covered themselves with their
shields, so that the arrows could not reach their bodies, nor do
any mischief, how true soever was their aim, or however well they
shot. Then the Normans determined to shoot their arrows upwards
into the air, so that they might fall on their enemies' heads,
and strike their faces. The archers adopted this scheme, and
shot up into the air towards the English; and the arrows in
falling struck their heads and faces, and put out the eyes of
many; and all feared to open their eyes, or leave their faces
unguarded.

"The arrows now flew thicker than rain before the wind; fast sped
the shafts that the English called 'wibetes.' Then it was that
an arrow, that had been thus shot upwards, struck Harold above his
right eye and put it out. In his agony he drew the arrow and
threw it away, breaking it with his hands; and the pain to his
head was so great, that he leaned upon his shield. So the
English were wont to say, and still say to the French, that the
arrow was well shot which was so sent up against their king; and
that the archer won them great glory, who thus put out Harold's
eye.

"The Normans saw that the English defended themselves well, and
were so strong in their position that they could do little
against them. So they consulted together privily, and arranged
to draw off, and pretend to flee, till the English should pursue
and scatter themselves over the field; for they saw that if they
could once get their enemies to break: their ranks, they might
be attacked and discomfited much more easily. As they had said,
so they did. The Normans by little and little fled, the English
following them. As the one fell back, the other pressed after;
and when the Frenchmen retreated, the English thought and cried
out that the men of France fled, and would never return.

"Thus they were deceived by the pretended flight, and great

mischief thereby befell them; for if they had not moved from
their position, it is not likely that they would have been
conquered at all; but like fools they broke their lines and
pursued.

"The Normans were to be seen following up their stratagem,

retreating slowly so as to draw the English further on. As they
still flee, the English pursue; they push out their lances and
stretch forth their hatchets: following the Normans, as they go
rejoicing in the success of their scheme, and scattering
themselves over the plain. And the English meantime jeered and
insulted their foes with words. 'Cowards,' they cried, 'you came
hither in an evil hour, wanting our lands, and seeking to seize
our property, fools that ye were to come! Normandy is too far
off and you will not easily reach it. It is of little use to run
back; unless you can cross the sea at a leap, or can drink it
dry, your sons and daughters are lost to you.

"The Normans bore it all, but in fact they knew not what the
English said: their language seemed like the baying of dogs,
which they could not understand. At length they stopped and
turned round, determined to recover their ranks; and the barons
might be heard crying 'Dex aie!' for a halt. Then the Normans
resumed their former position, turning their faces towards the
enemy; and their men were to be seen facing round and rushing
onwards to a fresh MELEE; the one party assaulting the other;
this man striking, another pressing onwards. One hits, another
misses; one flies, another pursues; one is aiming a stroke, while
another discharges his blow. Norman strives with Englishman
again, and aims his blows afresh. One flies, another pursues
swiftly: the combatants are many, the plain wide, the battle and
the MELEE fierce. On every hand they fight hard, the blows are
heavy, and the struggle becomes fierce.

"The Normans were playing their part well, when an English knight
came rushing up, having in his company a hundred men, furnished
with various arms. He wielded a northern hatchet, with the blade
a full foot long; and was well armed after his manner, being
tall, bold, and of noble carriage. In the front of the battle
where the Normans thronged most, he came bounding on swifter than
the stag, many Normans falling before him and his company. He
rushed straight upon a Norman who was armed and riding on a war-
horse, and tried with, his hatchet of steel to cleave his helmet;
but the blow miscarried and the sharp blade glanced down before
the saddle-bow, driving through the horse's neck down to the
ground, so that both horse and master fell together to the earth.
I know not whether the Englishman struck another blow; but the
Normans who saw the stroke were astonished and about to abandon
the assault, when Roger de Mongomeri came galloping up, with his
lance set, and heeding not the long-handled axe, which the
English-man wielded aloft, struck him down, and left him
stretched upon the ground. Then Roger cried out, 'Frenchmen,
strike! the day is ours!' and again a fierce MELEE was to be
seen, with many a blow of lance and sword; the English still
defending themselves, killing the horses and cleaving the
shields.

"There was a French soldier of noble mien, who sat his horse
gallantly. He spied two Englishmen who were also carrying
themselves boldly. They were both men of great worth, and had
become companions in arms and fought together, the one protecting
the other. They bore two long and broad bills, and did great
mischief to the Normans, killing both horses and men. The French
soldier looked at them and their bills, and was sore alarmed, for
he was afraid of losing his good horse, the best that he had; and
would willingly have turned to some other quarter, if it would
not have looked like cowardice. He soon, however, recovered his
courage, and spurring his horse gave him the bridle, and galloped
swiftly forward. Fearing the two bills, he raised his shield,
and struck one of the Englishmen with his lance on the breast, so
that the iron passed out at his back; at the moment that he fell
the lance broke, and the Frenchmen seized the mace that hung at
his right side, and struck the other Englishman a blow that
completely broke his skull.

"On the other side was an Englishman who much annoyed the French,
continually assaulting them with a keen-edged hatchet. He had a
helmet made of wood, which he had fastened down to his coat, and
laced round his neck, so that no blows could reach his head. The
ravage he was making was seen by a gallant Norman knight, who
rode a horse that neither fire nor water could stop in its
career, when its master urged it on. The knight spurred, and his
horse carried him on well till he charged the Englishman,
striking him over the helmet, so that it fell down over his eyes;
and as he stretched out his hand to raise it and uncover the
face, the Norman cut off his right hand, so that his hatchet fell
to the ground. Another Norman sprang forward and eagerly seized
the prize with both his hands, but he kept it little space, and
paid dearly for it, for as he stooped to pick up the hatchet, an
Englishman with his long-handled axe struck him over the back,
breaking all his bones, so that his entrails and lungs gushed
forth. The knight of the good horse meantime returned without
injury; but on his way he met another Englishman, and bore him
down under his his horse, wounding him grievously, and trampling
him altogether under foot.

"And now might be heard the loud clang and cry of battle, and the
clashing of lances. The English stood firm in their barricades,
and shivered the lances, beating them into pieces with their
bills and maces. The Normans drew their swords, and hewed down
the barricades, and the English in great trouble fell back upon
their standard, where were collected the maimed and wounded.

"There were many knights of Chauz, who jousted and made attacks.
The English knew not how to joust, or bear arms on horseback but
fought with hatchets and bills. A man when he wanted to strike
with one of their hatchets, was obliged to hold it with both his
hands, and could not at the same time, as it seems to me, both
cover himself and strike with any freedom.

"The English fell back towards the standard, which was upon a
rising ground, and the Normans followed them across the valley,
attacking them on foot and horseback. Then Hue de Mortemer, with
the sires D'Auviler, D'Onebac, and St. Cler, rode up and charged,
overthrowing many.

"Robert Fitz Erneis fixed his lance, took his shield, and,
galloping towards the standard, with his keen-edged sword struck
an Englishman who was in front, killed him, and then drawing back
his sword, attacked many others, and pushed straight for the
standard, trying to beat it down, but the English surrounded it,
and killed him with their bills. He was found on the spot, when
they afterwards sought for him, dead, and lying at the standard's
foot.

"Duke William pressed close upon the English with his lance;
striving hard to reach the standard with the great troop he led;
and seeking earnestly for Harold, on whose account the whole war
was. The Normans follow their lord, and press around him; they
ply their blows upon the English; and these defend themselves
stoutly, striving hard with their enemies, returning blow for
blow.

"One of them was a man of great strength, a wrestler, who did

great mischief to the Normans with his hatchet; all feared him,
for he struck down a great many Normans. The Duke spurred on his
horse, and aimed a blow at him, but he stooped, and so escaped
the stroke; then jumping on one side, he lifted his hatchet
aloft, and as the Duke bent to avoid the blow the Englishman
boldly struck him on the head, and beat in his helmet, though
without doing much injury. He was very near falling, however,
but bearing on his stirrups he recovered himself immediately; and
when he thought to have revenged himself upon the churl by
killing him, he had escaped, dreading the Duke's blow. He ran
back in among the English, but he was not safe even there; for
the Normans seeing him, pursued and caught him; and having
pierced him through and through with their lances, left him dead
on the ground.

"Where the throng of the battle was greatest, the men of Kent and
Essex fought wondrously well, and made the Normans again retreat,
but without doing them much injury. And when the Duke saw his
men fall back and the English triumphing over them, his spirit
rose high, and he seized his shield and his lance, which a vassal
handed to him, and took his post by his standard.

"Then those who kept close guard by him and rode where he rode,
being about a thousand armed men, came and rushed with closed
ranks upon the English; and with the weight of their good horses,
and the blows the knights gave, broke the press of the enemy, and
scattered the crowd before them, the good Duke leading them on in
front. Many pursued and many fled; many were the Englishmen who
fell around, and were trampled under the horses, crawling upon
the earth, and not able to rise. Many of the richest and noblest
men fell in that rout, but the English still rallied in places;
smote down those whom they reached, and maintained the combat the
best they could; beating down the men and killing the horses.
One Englishman watched the Duke, and plotted to kill him; he
would have struck him with his lance, but he could not, for the
Duke struck him first, and felled him to the earth.

"Loud was now the clamour, and great the slaughter; many a soul
then quitted the body it inhabited. The living marched over the
heaps of dead, and each side was weary of striking. He charged
on who could, and he who could no longer strike still pushed
forward. The strong struggled with the strong; some failed,
others triumphed; the cowards fell back, the brave pressed on;
and sad was his fate who fell in the midst, for he had little
chance of rising again; and many in truth fell, who never rose at
all, being crushed under the throng.

"And now the Normans pressed on so far, that at last they had
reached the standard. There Harold had remained, defending
himself to the utmost; but he was sorely wounded in his eye by
the arrow, and suffered grievous pain from the blow. An armed
man came in the throng of the battle, and struck him on the
ventaille of his helmet, and beat him to the ground; and as he
sought to recover himself, a knight beat him down again, striking
him on the thick of his thigh, down to the bone.

"Gurth saw the English falling around, and that there was no
remedy. He saw his race hastening to ruin, and despaired of any
aid; he would have fled but could not, for the throng continually
increased and the Duke pushed on till he reached him, and struck
him with great force. Whether he died of that blow I know not,
but it was said that he fell under it, and rose no more.

"The standard was beaten down, the golden standard was taken, and
Harold and the best of his friends were slain; but there was so
much eagerness, and throng of so many around, seeking to kill
him, that I know not who it was that slew him.
"The English were in great trouble at having lost their king, and
at the Duke's having conquered and beat down the standard; but
they still fought on, and defended themselves long, and in fact
till the day drew to a close. Then it clearly appeared to all
that the standard was lost, and the news had spread throughout
the army that Harold for certain was dead; and all saw that there
was no longer any hope, so they left the field, and those fled
who could.

"William fought well; many an assault did he lead, many a blow

did he give, and many receive, and many fell dead under his hand.
Two horses were killed under him, and he took a third at time of
need, so that he fell not to the ground; and he lost not a drop
of blood. But whatever any one did, and whoever lived or died,
this is certain, that William conquered, and that many of the
English fled from the field, and many died on the spot. Then he
returned thanks to God, and in his pride ordered his standard to
be brought and set up on high where the English standard had
stood; and that was the signal of his having conquered and beaten
down the foe. And he ordered his tent to be raised on the spot
among the dead, and had his meat brought thither, and his supper
prepared there.

"Then he took off his armour; and the barons and knights, pages
and squires came, when he had unstrung his shield: and they took
the helmet from his head, and the hauberk from his back, and saw
the heavy blows upon his shield, and how his helmet was dinted
in. And all greatly wondered, and said, 'Such a baron never
bestrode war-horse, or dealt such blows, or did such feats of
arms; neither has there been on earth such a knight since Rollant
and Olivier.'

"Thus they lauded and extolled him greatly, and rejoiced in what
they saw; but grieving also for their friends who were slain in
the battle. And the Duke stood meanwhile among them of noble
stature and mien; and rendered thanks to the King of Glory,
through whom he had the victory; and thanked the knights around
him, mourning also frequently for the dead. And he ate and drank
among the dead, and made his bed that night upon the field.

"The morrow was Sunday; and those who had slept upon the field of
battle, keeping watch around, and suffering great fatigue,
bestirred themselves at break of day and sought out and buried
such of the bodies of their dead friends as they might find. The
noble ladies of the land also came, some to seek their husbands,
and others their fathers, sons, or brothers. They bore the
bodies to their villages, and interred them at the churches; and
the clerks and priests of the country were ready, and at the
request of their friends, took the bodies that were found, and
prepared graves and laid them therein.

"King Harold was carried and buried at Varham; but I know not who
it was that bore him thither, neither do I know who buried him.
Many remained on the field, and many had fled in the night."

Such is a Norman account of the battle of Hastings, which does

full justice to the valour of the Saxons, as well as to the skill
and bravery of the victors. [In the preceding pages, I have
woven together the "purpureos pannos" of the old chronicler. In
so doing, I have largely availed myself of Mr. Edgar Taylor's
version of that part of the "Roman de Rou" which describes the
conquest. By giving engravings from the Bayeux Tapestry, and
excellent notes, Mr. Taylor has added much to the value and
interest of his volume.] It is indeed evident that the loss of
the battle to the English was owing to the wound which Harold
received in the afternoon, and which must have incapacitated him
from effective command. When we remember that he had himself
just won the battle of Stamford Bridge over Harald Hardrada by
the manoeuvre of a feigned flight, it is impossible to suppose
that he could be deceived by the same stratagem on the part of
the Normans at Hastings. But his men, when deprived of his
control would very naturally be led by their inconsiderate ardour
into the pursuit that proved so fatal to them. All the
narratives of the battle, however much they may vary as to the
precise time and manner of Harold's fall, eulogise the
generalship and the personal prowess which he displayed, until
the fatal arrow struck him. The skill with which he had posted
his army was proved, both by the slaughter which it cost the
Normans to force the position, and also by the desperate rally
which some of the Saxons made, after the battle, in the forest in
the rear, in which they cut off a large number of the pursuing
Normans. This circumstance is particularly mentioned by William
of Poictiers, the Conqueror's own chaplain. Indeed, if Harold,
or either of his brothers, had survived, the remains of the
English army might have formed again in the wood, and could at
least have effected an orderly retreat, and prolonged the war.
But both Gurth and Leofwine, and all the bravest thanes of
Southern England, lay dead on Senlac, around their fallen king
and the fallen standard of their country. The exact number of
the slain on the Saxon side is unknown; but we read that on the
side of the victors, out of sixty thousand men who had been
engaged, no less than a fourth perished: so well had the English
bill-men "plied the ghastly blow" and so sternly had the Saxon
battle-axe cloven Norman casque and mail. [The Conqueror's
chaplain calls the Saxon battle-axes "saevissimas secures."] The
old historian Daniel justly as well as forcibly remarks, [As
cited in the "Pictorial History."] "Thus was tried, by the great
assize of God's judgment in battle, the right of power between
the English and Norman nations; a battle the most memorable of
all others; and, however miserably lost, yet most nobly fought on
the part of England."

Many a pathetic legend was told in after years respecting the

discovery and the burial of the corpse of our last Saxon king.
The main circumstances, though they seem to vary, are perhaps
reconcilable. [See them collected in Lingard, vol. i p. 452, ET
SEQ.; Thierry, vol i. p. 299; Sharon Turner, Vol. i. p. 82; and
Histoire de Normandie par Lieguet, p. 242.] Two of the monks of
Waltham abbey, which Harold had founded a little time before his
election to the throne, had accompanied him to the battle. On
the morning after the slaughter they begged and gained permission
of the Conqueror to search for the body of their benefactor. The
Norman soldiery and camp-followers had stripped and gashed the
slain; and the two monks vainly strove to recognise from among
the mutilated and gory heaps around them the features of their
former king. They sent for Harold's mistress, Edith, surnamed
"the Fair" and the "Swan-necked," to aid them. The eye of love
proved keener than the eye of gratitude, and the Saxon lady, even
in that Aceldama, knew her Harold.

The king's mother now sought the victorious Norman, and begged
the dead body of her son. But William at first answered in his
wrath, and in the hardness of his heart, that a man who had been
false to his word and his religion should have no other sepulchre
than the sand of the shore. He added, with a sneer, "Harold
mounted guard on the coast while he was alive; he may continue
his guard now he is dead." The taunt was an unintentional
eulogy; and a grave washed by the spray of the Sussex waves would
have been the noblest burial-place for the martyr of Saxon
freedom. But Harold's mother was urgent in her lamentations and
her prayers: the Conqueror relented: like Achilles, he gave up
the dead body of his fallen foe to a parent's supplications; and
the remains of King Harold were deposited with regal honours in
Waltham Abbey.

On Christmas day of the same year, William the Conqueror was

crowned at London, King of England.

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS BETWEEN THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS, A.D. 1066, AND

JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS, 1429.

A.D. 1066-1087. Reign of William the Conqueror. Frequent

risings of the English against him, which are quelled with
merciless rigour.

1096. The first Crusade.

1112. Commencement of the disputes about investitures between

the emperors and the popes.

1140. Foundation of the city of Lubeck, whence originated the

Hanseatic League. Commencement of the feuds in Italy between the
Guelphs and Ghibellines.

1146. The second Crusade.

1154. Henry II. becomes King of England. Under him Thomas a

Becket is made Archbishop of Canterbury: the first instance of
any man of the Saxon race being raised to high office in Church
or State since the Conquest.

1170. Strongbow, earl of Pembroke, lands with an English army in

Ireland.

1189. Richard Coeur de Lion becomes King of England. He and

King Philip Augustus of France join in the third Crusade.

1199-1204. On the death of King Richard, his brother John claims

and makes himself master of England and Normandy and the other
large continental possessions of the early Plantagenet princes.
Philip Augustus asserts the cause of Prince Arthur, John's
nephew, against him. Arthur is murdered, but the French king
continues the war against John, and conquers from him Normandy,
Brittany, Anjou, Maine, Touraine, and Poictiers.

1216. The barons, the freeholders, the citizens, and the yeomen
of England rise against the tyranny of John and his foreign
favourites. They compel him to sign Magna Charta. This is the
commencement of our nationality: for our history from this time
forth is the history of a national life, then complete, and still
in being. All English history before this period is a mere
history of elements, of their collisions, and of the processes of
their fusion. For upwards of a century after the Conquest,
Anglo-Norman and Anglo-Saxon had kept aloof from each other: the
one in haughty scorn, the other in sullen abhorrence. They were
two peoples, though living in the same land. It is not until the
thirteenth century, the period of the reigns of John and his son
and grandson, that we can perceive the existence of any feeling
of common patriotism among them. But in studying the history of
these reigns, we read of the old dissensions no longer. The
Saxon no more appears in civil war against the Norman; the Norman
no longer scorns the language of the Saxon, or refuses to bear
together with him the name of Englishman. No part of the
community think themselves foreigners to another part. They feel
that they are all one people, and they have learned to unite
their efforts for the common purpose of protecting the rights and
promoting the welfare of all. The fortunate loss of the Duchy of
Normandy in John's reign greatly promoted these new feelings.
Thenceforth our barons' only homes were in England. One language
had, in the reign of Henry III., become the language of the land;
and that, also, had then assumed the form in which we still
possess it. One law, in the eye of which all freemen are equal
without distinction of race, was modelled, and steadily enforced,
and still continues to form the groundwork of our judicial
system. [Creasy's Text-book of the Constitution, p. 4.]

1273. Rudolph of Hapsburg chosen Emperor of Germany.

1283. Edward I. conquers Wales.

1346. Edward III. invades France, and gains the battle of

Cressy.

1356. Battle of Poictiers.

1360. Treaty of Bretigny between England and France. By it

Edward III. renounces his pretensions to the French crown. The
treaty is ill kept, and indecisive hostilities continue between
the forces of the two countries.

1414. Henry V. of England claims the crown of France, and

resolves to invade and conquer that kingdom. At this time France
was in the most deplorable state of weakness and suffering, from
the factions that raged among her nobility, and from the cruel
oppressions which the rival nobles practised on the mass of the
community. "The people were exhausted by taxes, civil wars, and
military executions; and they had fallen into that worst of all
states of mind, when the independence of one's country is thought
no longer a paramount and sacred object. 'What can the English
do to us worse than the things we suffer at the hands of our own
princes?' was a common exclamation among the poor people of
France." [Pictorial Hist. of England, vol. i. p. 28.]

1415. Henry invades France, takes Harfleur, and wins the great
battle of Agincourt.

1417-1419. Henry conquers Normandy. The French Dauphin

assassinates the Duke of Burgundy, the most powerful of the
French nobles, at Montereau. The successor of the murdered duke
becomes the active ally of the English.

1420. The Treaty of Troyes is concluded between Henry V. of

England and Charles VI. of France, and Philip, duke of Burgundy.
By this treaty it was stipulated that Henry should marry the
Princess Catherine of France; that King Charles, during his life-
time, should keep the title and dignity of King of France, but
that Henry should succeed him, and should at once be entrusted
with the administration of the government, and that the French
crown should descend to Henry's heirs; that France and England
should for ever be united under one king, but should still retain
their several usages, customs, and privileges; that all the
princes, peers, vassals, and communities of France should swear
allegiance to Henry as their future king, and should pay him
present obedience as regent; that Henry should unite his arms to
those of King Charles and the Duke of Burgundy, in order to
subdue the adherents of Charles, the pretended dauphin; and that
these three princes should make no truce or peace with the
Dauphin, but by the common consent of all three.

1421. Henry V. gains several victories over the French, who

refuse to acknowledge the treaty of Troyes. His son, afterwards
Henry VI., is born.

1422. Henry V. and Charles VI. of France die. Henry VI. is

proclaimed at Paris, King of England and France. The followers
of the French Dauphin proclaim him Charles VII., King of France.
The Duke of Bedford, the English Regent in France, defeats the
army of the Dauphin at Crevant.

1424. The Duke of Bedford gains the great victory of Verneuil

over the French partizans of the Dauphin, and their Scotch
auxiliaries.

1428. The English begin the siege of Orleans.

CHAPTER IX.

JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY OVER THE ENGLISH AT ORLEANS, A.D. 1429.

"The eyes of all Europe were turned towards this scene; where, it
was reasonably supposed, the French were to make their last stand
for maintaining the independence of their monarchy and the rights
of their; sovereign"--HUME.

When, after their victory at Salamis, the generals of the various

Greek states voted the prizes for distinguished individual merit,
each assigned the first place of excellence to himself, but they
all concurred in giving their second votes to Themistocles.
[Plutarch, Vit. Them. 17.] This was looked on as a decisive
proof that Themistocles ought to be ranked first of all. If we
were to endeavour, by a similar test, to ascertain which European
nation has contributed the most to the progress of European
civilization, we should find Italy, Germany, England, and Spain,
each claiming the first degree, but each also naming France as
clearly next in merit. It is impossible to deny her paramount
importance in history. Besides the formidable part that she has
for nearly three centuries played, as the Bellona of the European
commonwealth of states, her influence during all this period over
the arts, the literature, the manners and the feelings of
mankind, has been such as to make the crisis of her earlier
fortunes a point of world-wide interest; and it may be asserted
without exaggeration, that the future career of every nation was
involved in the result of the struggle by which the unconscious
heroine of France, in the beginning of the fifteenth century,
rescued her country from becoming a second Ireland under the yoke
of the triumphant English.

Seldom has the extinction of a a nation's independence appeared

more inevitable than was the case in France, when the English
invaders completed their lines round Orleans, four hundred and
twenty-three years ago. A series of dreadful defeats had thinned
the chivalry of France, and daunted the spirits of her soldiers.
A foreign King had been proclaimed in her capital; and foreign
armies of the bravest veterans, and led by the ablest captains
then known in the world, occupied the fairest portions of her
territory. Worse to her even than the fierceness and the
strength of her foes were the factions, the vices, and the crimes
of her own children. Her native prince was a dissolute trifler,
stained with the assassination of the most powerful noble of the
land, whose son, in revenge, had leagued himself with the enemy.
Many more of her nobility, many of her prelates, her magistrates,
and rulers, had sworn fealty to the English king. The condition
of the peasantry amid the general prevalence of anarchy and
brigandage, which were added to the customary devastations of
contending armies, was wretched beyond the power of language to
describe. The sense of terror and suffering seemed to have
extended itself even to the brute creation.

"In sooth, the estate of France was then most miserable. There
appeared nothing but a horrible face, confusion, poverty,
desolation, solitarinesse, and feare. The lean and bare
labourers in the country did terrifie even theeves themselves,
who had nothing left them to spoile but the carkasses of these
poore miserable creatures, wandering up and down like ghostes
drawne out of their graves. The least farmes and hamlets were
fortified by these robbers, English, Bourguegnons, and French,
every one striving to do his worst; all men-of-war were well
agreed to spoile the countryman and merchant. EVEN THE CATTELL,
ACCUSTOMED TO THE LARUME BELL, THE SIGNE OF THE ENEMY'S APPROACH,
WOULD RUN HOME OF THEMSELVES WITHOUT ANY GUIDE BY THIS ACCUSTOMED
MISERY." [De Serres, quoted in the notes to Southey's Joan of
Arc.]
In the autumn of 1428, the English, who were already masters of
all France north of the Loire, prepared their forces for the
conquest of the southern provinces, which yet adhered to the
cause of the Dauphin. The city of Orleans, on the banks of that
river, was looked upon as the last stronghold of the French
national party. If the English could once obtain possession of
it, their victorious progress through the residue of the kingdom
seemed free from any serious obstacle. Accordingly, the Earl of
Salisbury, one of the bravest and most experienced of the English
generals, who had been trained under Henry V., marched to the
attack of the all-important city; and, after reducing several
places of inferior consequence in the neighbourhood, appeared
with his army before its walls on the 12th of October, 1428.

The city of Orleans itself was on the north side of the Loire,
but its suburbs extended far on the southern side, and a strong
bridge connected them with the town. A fortification which in
modern military phrase would be termed a tete-du-pont, defended
the bridge-head on the southern side, and two towers, called the
Tourelles, were built on the bridge itself, where it rested on an
island at a little distance from the tete-du-pont. Indeed, the
solid masonry of the bridge terminated at the Tourelles; and the
communication thence with the tete-du-pont on the southern shore
was by means of a drawbridge. The Tourelles and the tete-du-pont
formed together a strong fortified post, capable of containing a
garrison of considerable strength; and so long as this was in
possession of the Orleannais, they could communicate freely with
the southern provinces, the inhabitants of which, like the
Orleannais themselves, supported the cause of their Dauphin
against the foreigners. Lord Salisbury rightly judged the
capture of the Tourelles to be the most material step towards the
reduction of the city itself. Accordingly he directed his
principal operations against this post, and after some severe
repulses, he carried the Tourelles by storm, on the 23d of
October. The French, however, broke down the part of the bridge
which was nearest to the north bank and thus rendered a direct
assault from the Tourelles upon the city impossible. But the
possession of this post enabled the English to distress the town
greatly by a battery of cannon which they planted there, and
which commanded some of the principal streets.

It has been observed by Hume, that this is the first siege in

which any important use appears to have been made of artillery.
And even at Orleans both besiegers and besieged seem to have
employed their cannons more as instruments of destruction against
their enemy's men, than as engines of demolition against their
enemy's walls and works. The efficacy of cannon in breaching
solid masonry was taught Europe by the Turks, a few years after
wards, at the memorable siege of Constantinople. In our French
wars, as in the wars of the classic nations, famine was looked on
as the surest weapon to compel the submission of a well-walled
town and the great object of the besiegers was to effect a
complete circumvallation. The great ambit of the walls of
Orleans, and the facilities which the river gave for obtaining
succour and supplies, rendered the capture of the place by this
process a matter of great difficulty. Nevertheless, Lord
Salisbury, and Lord Suffolk, who succeeded him in command of the
English after his death by a cannon-ball, carried on the
necessary works with great skill and resolution. Six strongly
fortified posts, called bastillos, were formed at certain
intervals round the town and the purpose of the English engineers
was to draw strong lines between them. During the winter little
progress was made with the entrenchments, but when the spring of
1429 came, the English resumed their works with activity; the
communications between the city and the country became more
difficult, and the approach of want began already to be felt in
Orleans.

The besieging force also fared hardly for stores and provisions,
until relieved by the effects of a brilliant victory which Sir
John Fastolfe, one of the best English generals, gained at
Rouvrai, near Orleans, a few days after Ash Wednesday, 1429.
With only sixteen hundred fighting men, Sir John completely
defeated an army of French and Scots, four thousand strong, which
had been collected for the purpose of aiding the Orleannais, and
harassing the besiegers. After this encounter, which seemed
decisively to confirm the superiority of the English in battle
over their adversaries, Fastolfe escorted large supplies of
stores and food to Suffolk's camp, and the spirits of the English
rose to the highest pitch at the prospect of the speedy capture
of the city before them, and the consequent subjection of all
France beneath their arms.

The Orleannais now in their distress offered to surrender the

city into the hands of the Duke of Burgundy, who, though the ally
of the English, was yet one of their native princes. The Regent
Bedford refused these terms, and the speedy submission of the
city to the English seemed inevitable. The Dauphin Charles, who
was now at Chinon with his remnant of a court, despaired of
maintaining any longer the struggle for his crown; and was only
prevented from abandoning the country by the more masculine
spirits of his mistress and his queen. Yet neither they, nor the
boldest of Charles's captains, could have shown him where to find
resources for prolonging the war; and least of all could any
human skill have predicted the quarter whence rescue was to come
to Orleans and to France.

In the village of Domremy, on the borders of Lorraine, there was

a poor peasant of the name of Jacques d'Arc, respected in his
station of life, and who had reared a family in virtuous habits
and in the practice of the strictest devotion. His eldest
daughter was named by her parents Jeannette, but she was called
Jeanne by the French, which was Latinised into Johanna, and
anglicised into Joan. ["Respondit quod in partibus suis
vocabatur Johanneta, et postquam venit in Franciam vocata est
Johanna."--PROCES DE JEANNE D'ARC, vol i. p. 46.]

At the time when Joan first attracted attention, she was about
eighteen years of age. She was naturally of a susceptible
disposition, which diligent attention to the legends of saints,
and tales of fairies, aided by the dreamy loneliness of her life
while tending her father's flocks, had made peculiarly prone to
enthusiastic fervour. At the same time she was eminent for piety
and purity of soul, and for her compassionate gentleness to the
sick and the distressed.
[Southey, in one of the speeches which he puts in the mouth of
his Joan of Arc, has made her beautifully describe the effect; on
her mind of the scenery in which she dwelt:-

"Here in solitude and peace

My soul was nurst, amid the loveliest scenes
Of-unpolluted nature. Sweet it was,
As the white mists of morning roll'd away,
To see the mountain's wooded heights appear
Dark in the early dawn, and mark its slope
With gorse-flowers glowing, as the rising sun
On the golden ripeness pour'd a deepening light.
Pleasant at noon beside the vocal brook
To lay me down, and watch the the floating clouds,
And shape to Fancy's wild similitudes
Their ever-varying forms; and oh, how sweet,
To drive my flock at evening to the fold,
And hasten to our little hut, and hear
The voice of kindness bid me welcome home!"

The only foundation for the story told by the Burgundian partisan
Monstrelet, and adopted by Hume, of Joan having been brought up
as servant at an inn, is the circumstance of her having been
once, with the rest of her family, obliged to take refuge in an
AUBERGE in Neufchateau for fifteen days, when a party of
Burgundian cavalry made an incursion into Domremy. (See the
Quarterly Review, No. 138.)]

The district where she dwelt had escaped comparatively free from
the ravages of war, but the approach of roving bands of
Burgundian or English troops frequently spread terror through
Domremy. Once the village had been plundered by some of these
marauders, and Joan and her family had been driven from their
home, and forced to seek refuge for a time at Neufchateau. The
peasantry in Domremy were principally attached to the House of
Orleans and the Dauphin; and all the miseries which France
endured, were there imputed to the Burgundian faction and their
allies, the English, who were seeking to enslave unhappy France.

Thus from infancy to girlhood Joan had heard continually of the

woes of the war, and she had herself witnessed some of the
wretchedness that it caused. A feeling of intense patriotism
grew in her with her growth. The deliverance of France from the
English was the subject of her reveries by day and her dreams by
night. Blended with these aspirations were recollections of the
miraculous interpositions of Heaven in favour of the oppressed,
which she had learned from the legends of her Church. Her faith
was undoubting; her prayers were fervent. "She feared no danger,
for she felt no sin;" and at length she believed herself to have
received the supernatural inspiration which, she sought.

According to her own narrative, delivered by her to her merciless

inquisitors in the time of her captivity and approaching death,
she was about thirteen years old when her revelations commenced.
Her own words describe them best: [Proces de Jeanne d'Arc,
vol. i. p. 52.] "At the age of thirteen, a voice from God came
near to her to help her in ruling herself, and that voice came to
her about the hour of noon, in summer time, while she was in her
father's garden. And she had fasted the day before. And she
heard the voice on her right, in the direction of the church; and
when she heard the voice she also saw a bright light.
Afterwards, St. Michael and St. Margaret and St. Catherine
appeared to her. They were always in a halo of glory; she could
see that their heads were crowned with jewels: and she heard
their voices, which were sweet and mild. She did not distinguish
their arms or limbs. She heard them more frequently than she saw
them; and the usual time when she heard them was when the church
bells were sounding for prayer. And if she was in the woods when
she heard them, she could plainly distinguish their voices
drawing near to her. When she thought that she discerned the
Heavenly Voices, she knelt down, and bowed herself to the ground.
Their presence gladdened her even to tears; and after they
departed she wept because they had not taken her with them back
to Paradise. They always spoke soothingly to her. They told her
that France would be saved, and that she was to save it." Such
were the visions and the Voices that moved the spirit of the girl
of thirteen; and as she grew older they became more frequent and
more clear. At last the tidings of the siege of Orleans reached
Domremy, Joan heard her parents and neighbours talk of the
sufferings of its population, of the ruin which its capture would
bring on their lawful sovereign, and of the distress of the
Dauphin and his court. Joan's heart was sorely troubled at the
thought of the fate of Orleans; and her Voices now ordered her to
leave her home; and warned her that she was the instrument chosen
by Heaven for driving away the English from that city, and for
taking the Dauphin to be anointed king at Rheims. At length she
informed her parents of her divine mission, and told them that
she must go to the Sire de Baudricourt, who commanded at
Vaucouleurs, and who was the appointed person to bring her into
the presence of the king, whom she was to save. Neither the
anger nor the grief of her parents, who said that they would
rather see her drowned than exposed to the contamination of the
camp, could move her from her purpose. One of her uncles
consented to take her to Vaucouleurs, where De Baudricourt at
first thought her mad, and derided her; but by degrees was led to
believe, if not in her inspiration, at least in her enthusiasm
and in its possible utility to the Dauphin's cause.

The inhabitants of Vaucouleurs were completely won over to her

side, by the piety and devoutness which she displayed and by her
firm assurance in the truth of her mission. She told them that
it was God's will that she should go to the King, and that no one
but her could save the kingdom of France. She said that she
herself would rather remain with her poor mother and spin; but
the Lord had ordered her forth. The fame of "The Maid," as she
was termed, the renown of her holiness, and of her mission,
spread far and wide. Baudricourt sent her with an escort to
Chinon, where the Dauphin Charles was dallying away his time.
Her Voices had bidden her assume the arms and the apparel of a
knight; and the wealthiest inhabitants of Vaucouleurs had vied
with each other in equipping her with warhorse, armour, and
sword. On reaching Chinon, she was, after some delay, admitted
into the presence of the Dauphin. Charles designedly dressed
himself far less richly than many of his courtiers were
apparelled, and mingled with them, when Jean was introduced, in
order to see if the Holy Maid would address her exhortations to
the wrong person. But she instantly singled him out, and
kneeling before him, said, "Most noble Dauphin, the King of
Heaven announces to you by me, that you shall be anointed and
crowned king in the city of Rheims, and that you shall be His
viceregent in France." His features may probably have been seen
by her previously in portraits, or have been described to her by
others; but she herself believed that her Voices inspired her
when she addressed the King; [Proces de Jeanne d'Arc, vol. i.
p. 56.] and the report soon spread abroad that the Holy Maid had
found the King by a miracle; and this, with many other similar
rumours, augmented the renown and influence that she now rapidly
acquired.

The state of public feeling in France was not favourable to an

enthusiastic belief in Divine interposition in favour of the
party that had hitherto been unsuccessful and oppressed. The
humiliations which had befallen the French royal family and
nobility were looked on as the just judgments of God upon them
for their vice and impiety. The misfortunes that had come upon
France as a nation, were believed to have been drawn down by
national sins. The English, who had been the instruments of
Heaven's wrath against France, seemed now by their pride and
cruelty to be fitting objects of it themselves. France in that
age was a profoundly religious country. There was ignorance,
there was superstition there was bigotry; but there was Faith--a
Faith that itself worked true miracles, even while it believed in
unreal ones. At this time, also, one of those devotional
movements began among the clergy in France, which from time to
time occur in national Churches, without it being possible for
the historian to assign any adequate human cause for their
immediate date or extension. Numberless friars and priests
traversed the rural districts and towns of France, preaching to
the people that they must seek from Heaven a deliverance from the
pillages of the soldiery, and the insolence of the foreign
oppressors. [See, Sismondi vol. xiii. p. 114; Michelet, vol. v.
Livre x.] The idea of a Providence that works only by general
laws was wholly alien to the feelings of the age. Every
political event, as well as every natural phenomenon, was
believed to be the immediate result of a special mandate of God.
This led to the belief that His holy angels and saints were
constantly employed in executing His commands and mingling in the
affairs of men. The Church encouraged these feelings; and at the
same time sanctioned; the concurrent popular belief that hosts of
evil spirits were also ever actively interposing in the current
of earthly events, with whom sorcerers and wizards could league
themselves, and thereby obtain the exercise of supernatural
power.

Thus all things favoured the influence which Joan obtained both
over friends and foes. The French nation, as well as the English
and the Burgundians, readily admitted that superhuman beings
inspired her: the only question was, whether these beings were
good or evil angels; whether she brought with her "airs from
heaven, or blasts from hell." This question seemed to her
countrymen to be decisively settled in her favour, by the austere
sanctity of her life, by the holiness of her conversation, but,
still more, by her exemplary attention to all the services and
rites of the Church. The dauphin at first feared the injury that
might be done to his cause if he had laid himself open to the
charge of having leagued himself with a sorceress. Every
imaginable test, therefore, was resorted to in order to set
Joan's orthodoxy and purity beyond suspicion. At last Charles
and his advisers felt safe in accepting her services as those of
a true and virtuous daughter of the Holy Church.

It is indeed probable that Charles himself, and some of his

counsellors, may have suspected Joan of being a mere enthusiast;
and it is certain that Dunois, and others of the best generals,
took considerable latitude in obeying or deviating from the
military orders that she gave. But over the mass of the people
and the soldiery, her influence was unbounded. While Charles and
his doctors of theology, and court ladies, had been deliberating
as to recognising or dismissing the Maid, a considerable period
had passed away, during which a small army, the last gleanings,
as it seemed, of the English sword, had been assembled at Blois,
under Dunois, La Hire, Xaintrailles, and other chiefs, who to
their natural valour were now beginning to unite the wisdom that
is taught by misfortune. It was resolved to send Joan with this
force and a convoy of provisions to Orleans. The distress of
that city had now become urgent. But the communication with the
open country was not entirely cut off: the Orleannais had heard
of the Holy Maid whom Providence had raised up for their
deliverance, and their messengers urgently implored the dauphin
to send her to them without delay.

Joan appeared at the camp at Blois, clad in a new suit of

brilliant white armour, mounted on a stately black war-horse, and
with a lance in her right hand, which she had learned to wield
with skill and grace. [See the description of her by Gui de
Laval, quoted in the note to Michelet, p. 69; and see the
account of the banner at Orleans, which is believed to bear an
authentic portrait of the Maid, in Murray's Handbook for France,
p. 175.] Her head was unhelmeted; so that all could behold her
fair and expressive features, her deep-set and earnest eyes, and
her long black hair, which was parted across her forehead, and
bound by a ribbon behind her back. She wore at her side a small
battle-axe, and the consecrated sword, marked on the blade with
five crosses, which had at her bidding been taken for her from
the shrine of St. Catherine at Fierbois. A page carried her
banner, which she had caused to be made and embroidered as her
Voices enjoined. It was white satin [Proces de Jeanne d'Arc,
vol. i. p. 238.] strewn with fleur-de-lis; and on it were the
words "JHESUS MARIA," and the representation of the Saviour in
His glory. Joan afterwards generally bore her banner herself in
battle; she said that though she loved her sword much, she loved
her banner forty times as much; and she loved to carry it because
it could not kill any one.

Thus accoutred, she came to lead the troops of France, who looked
with soldierly admiration on her well-proportioned and upright
figure, the skill with which she managed her war-horse, and the
easy grace with which she handled her weapons. Her military
education had been short, but she had availed herself of it well.
She had also the good sense to interfere little with the
manoeuvres of the troops, leaving those things to Dunois, and
others whom she had the discernment to recognise as the best
officers in the camp. Her tactics in action were simple enough.
As she herself described it--"I used to say to them, 'Go boldly
in among the English,' and then I used to go boldly in myself."
[Ibid.] Such, as she told her inquisitors, was the only spell
she used; and it was one of power. But while interfering little
with the military discipline of the troops, in all matters of
moral discipline she was inflexibly strict. All the abandoned
followers of the camp were driven away. She compelled both
generals and soldiers to attend regularly at confessional. Her
chaplain and other priests marched with the army under her
orders; and at every halt, an altar was set up and the sacrament
administered. No oath or foul language passed without punishment
or censure. Even the roughest and most hardened veterans obeyed
her. They put off for a time the bestial coarseness which had
grown on them during a life of bloodshed and rapine; they felt
that they must go forth in a new spirit to a new career, and
acknowledged the beauty of the holiness in which the heaven-sent
Maid was leading them to certain victory.

Joan marched from Blois on the 26th of April with a convoy of

provisions for Orleans, accompanied by Dunois, La Hire, and the
other chief captains of the French; and on the evening of the
28th they approached the town. In the words of the old
chronicler Hall: [Hall, f. 127.] "The Englishmen, perceiving
that they within could not long continue for faute of vitaile and
pouder, kepte not their watche so diligently as thei were
accustomed, nor scoured now the countrey environed as thei before
had ordained. Whiche negligence the citizens shut in perceiving,
sente worde thereof to the French captaines, which with Pucelle
in the dedde tyme of the nighte, and in a greats rayne and
thunders, with all their vitaile and artillery entered into the
citie."

When it was day, the Maid rode in solemn procession through the
city, clad in complete armour, and mounted on a white horse.
Dunois was by her side, and all the bravest knights of her army
and of the garrison followed in her train. The whole population
thronged around her; and men, women, and children strove to touch
her garments, or her banner, or her charger. They poured forth
blessings on her, whom they already considered their deliverer.
In the words used by two of them afterwards before the tribunal,
which reversed the sentence, but could not restore the life of
the Virgin-martyr of France, "the people of Orleans, when they
first saw her in their city, thought that it was an angel from
heaven that had come down to save them." Joan spoke gently in
reply to their acclamations and addresses. She told them to fear
God, and trust in Him for safety from the fury of their enemies.
She first went to the principal church, where TE DEUM was
chaunted; and then she took up her abode in the house of Jacques
Bourgier, one of the principal citizens, and whose wife was a
matron of good repute. She refused to attend a splendid banquet
which had been provided for her, and passed nearly all her time
in prayer.

When it was known by the English that the Maid was in Orleans,
their minds were not less occupied about her than were the minds
of those in the city; but it was in a very different spirit. The
English believed in her supernatural mission as firmly as the
French did; but they thought her a sorceress who had come to
overthrow them by her enchantments. An old prophecy, which told
that a damsel from Lorraine was to save France, had long been
current; and it was known and applied to Joan by foreigners as
well as by the natives. For months the English had heard of the
coming Maid; and the tales of miracles which she was said to have
wrought, had been listened to by the rough yeomen of the English
camp with anxious curiosity and secret awe. She had sent a
herald to the English generals before she marched for Orleans;
and he had summoned the English generals in the name of the Most
High to give up to the Maid who was sent by Heaven, the keys of
the French cities which they had wrongfully taken: and he also
solemnly adjured the English troops, whether archers, or men of
the companies of war, or gentlemen, or others, who were before
the city of Orleans, to depart thence to their homes, under peril
of being visited by the judgment of God. On her arrival in
Orleans, Joan sent another similar message; but the English
scoffed at her from their towers, and threatened to burn her
heralds. She determined before she shed the blood of the
besiegers, to repeat the warning with her own voice; and
accordingly she mounted one of the boulevards of the town, which
was within hearing of the Tourelles; and thence she spoke to the
English, and bade them depart, otherwise they would meet with
shame and woe. Sir William Gladsdale (whom the French call
GLACIDAS) commanded the English post at the Tourelles, and he and
another English officer replied by bidding her go home and keep
her cows, and by ribald jests, that brought tears of shame and
indignation into her eyes. But though the English leaders
vaunted aloud, the effect produced on their army by Joan's
presence in Orleans, was proved four days after her arrival;
when, on the approach of reinforcements and stores to the town,
Joan and La Hire marched out to meet them, and escorted the long
train of provision waggons safely into Orleans, between the
bastilles of the English, who cowered behind their walls, instead
of charging fiercely and fearlessly, as had been their wont, on
any French band that dared to show itself within reach.

Thus far she had prevailed without striking a blow; but the time
was now come to test her courage amid the horrors of actual
slaughter. On the afternoon of the day on which she had escorted
the reinforcements into the city, while she was resting fatigued
at home, Dunois had seized an advantageous opportunity of
attacking the English bastille of St. Loup: and a fierce assault
of the Orleannais had been made on it, which the English garrison
of the fort stubbornly resisted. Joan was roused by a sound
which she believed to be that of Her Heavenly Voices; she called
for her arms and horse, and quickly equipping herself she mounted
to ride off to where the fight was raging. In her haste she had
forgotten her banner; she rode back, and, without dismounting,
had it given to her from the window, and then she galloped to the
gate, whence the sally had been made. On her way she met some of
the wounded French who had been carried back from the fight.
"Ha," she exclaimed, "I never can see French blood flow, without
my hair standing on end." She rode out of the gate, and met the
tide of her countrymen, who had been repulsed from the English
fort, and were flying back to Orleans in confusion. At the sight
of the Holy Maid and her banner they rallied and renewed the
assault. Joan rode forward at their head, waving her banner and
cheering them on. The English quailed at what they believed to
be the charge of hell; St. Loup was stormed, and its defenders
put to the sword, except some few, whom Jean succeeded in saving.
All her woman's gentleness returned when the combat was over. It
was the first time that she had ever seen a battle-field. She
wept at the sight of so many blood-stained and mangled corpses;
and her tears flowed doubly when she reflected that they were the
bodies of Christian men who had died without confession.

The next day was ascension-day, and it was passed by Joan in

prayer. But on the following morrow it was resolved by the
chiefs of the garrison to attack the English forts on the south
of the river. For this purpose they crossed the river in boats,
and after some severe fighting, in which the Maid was wounded in
the heel, both the English bastilles of the Augustins and St.
Jean de Blanc were captured. The Tourelles were now the only
post which the besiegers held on the south of the river. But
that post was formidably strong, and by its command of the
bridge, it was the key to the deliverance of Orleans. It was
known that a fresh English army was approaching under Falstolfe
to reinforce the besiegers, and should that army arrive, while
the Tourelles were yet in the possession of their comrades, there
was great peril of all the advantages which the French had gained
being nullified, and of the siege being again actively carried
on.

It was resolved, therefore, by the French, to assail the

Tourelles at once, while the enthusiasm which the presence and
the heroic valour of the Maid had created was at its height. But
the enterprise was difficult. The rampart of the tete-du-pont,
or landward bulwark, of the Tourelles was steep and high; and Sir
John Gladsdale occupied this all-important fort with five hundred
archers and men-at-arms, who were the very flower of the English
army.

Early in the morning of the 7th of May, some thousands of the

best French troops in Orleans heard mass and attended the
confessional by Joan's orders; and then crossing the river in
boats, as on the preceding day they assailed the bulwark of the
Tourelles, "with light hearts and heavy hands." But Gladsdale's
men, encouraged by their bold and skilful leader, made a resolute
and able defence. The Maid planted her banner on the edge of the
fosse, and then springing down into the ditch, she placed the
first ladder against the wall, and began to mount. An English
archer sent an arrow at her, which pierced her corslet and
wounded her severely between the neck and shoulder. She fell
bleeding from the ladder; and the English were leaping down from
the wall to capture her, but her followers bore her off. She was
carried to the rear, and laid upon the grass; her armour was
taken off, and the anguish of her wound and the sight of her
blood, made her at first tremble and weep. But her confidence in
her celestial mission soon returned: her patron saints seemed to
stand before her and reassure her. She sate up and drew the
arrow out with her own hands. Some of the soldiers who stood by
wished to stanch the blood, by saying a charm over the wound; but
she forbade them, saying, that she did not wish to be cured by
unhallowed means. She had the wound dressed with a little oil,
and then bidding her confessor come to her, she betook herself to
prayer.

In the meanwhile, the English in the bulwark of the Tourelles,

had repulsed the oft-renewed efforts of the French to scale the
wall. Dunois, who commanded the assailants, was at first
discouraged, and gave orders for a retreat to be sounded, Joan
sent for him and the other generals, and implored them not to
despair. "By my God" she said to them, "you shall soon enter in
there. Do not doubt it. When you see my banner wave again up to
the wall, to your arms again! the fort is yours. For the
present rest a little, and take some food and drink. They did
so," says the old chronicler of the siege, [Journal du Siege
d'Orleans, p. 87.] "for they obeyed her marvellously." The
faintness caused by her wound had now passed off, and she headed
the French in another rush against the bulwark. The English, who
had thought her slain, were alarmed at her reappearance; while
the French pressed furiously and fanatically forward. A Biscayan
soldier was carrying Joan's banner. She had told the troops that
directly the banner touched the wall they should enter. The
Biscayan waved the banner forward from the edge of the fosse, and
touched the wall with it; and then all the French host swarmed
madly up the ladders that now were raised in all directions
against the English fort. At this crisis, the efforts of the
English garrison were distracted by an attach from another
quarter. The French troops who had been left in Orleans, had
placed some planks over the broken part of the bridge, and
advanced across them to the assault of the Tourelles on the
northern side. Gladsdale resolved to withdraw his men from the
landward bulwark, and concentrate his whole force in the
Tourelles themselves. He was passing for this purpose across the
drawbridge that connected the Tourelles and the tete-du-pont,
when Joan, who by this time had scaled the wall of the bulwark,
called out to him, "Surrender, surrender to the King of Heaven.
Ah, Glacidas, you have foully wronged me with your words, but I
have great pity on your soul and the souls of your men." The
Englishman, disdainful of her summons, was striding on across the
drawbridge, when a cannon-shot from the town carried it away, and
Gladsdale perished in the water that ran beneath. After his
fall, the remnant of the English abandoned all further
resistance. Three hundred of them had been killed in the battle,
and two hundred were made prisoners.

The broken arch was speedily repaired by the exulting Orleannais;

and Joan made her triumphal re-entry into the city by the bridge
that had so long been closed. Every church in Orleans rang out
its gratulating peal; and throughout the night the sounds of
rejoicing echoed, and the bonfires blazed up from the city. But
in the lines and forts which the besiegers yet retained on the
northern shore, there was anxious watching of the generals, and
there was desponding gloom among the soldiery. Even Talbot now
counselled retreat. On the following morning, the Orleannais,
from their walls, saw the great forts called "London" and "St.
Lawrence," in flames; and witnessed their invaders busy in
destroying the stores and munitions which had been relied on for
the destruction of Orleans. Slowly and sullenly the English army
retired; but not before it had drawn up in battle array opposite
to the city, as if to challenge the garrison to an encounter.
The French troops were eager to go out and attack, but Joan
forbade it. The day was Sunday. "In the name of God," she said,
"let them depart, and let us return thanks to God." She led the
soldiers and citizens forth from Orleans, but not for the
shedding of blood. They passed in solemn procession round the
city walls; and then, while their retiring enemies were yet in
sight, they knelt in thanksgiving to God for the deliverance
which he had vouchsafed them.

Within three months from the time of her first interview with the
Dauphin, Joan had fulfilled the first part of her promise, the
raising of the siege of Orleans. Within three months more she
fulfilled the second part also; and she stood with her banner in
her hand by the high altar at Rheims while he was anointed and
crowned as King Charles VII. of France. In the interval she had
taken Jargeau, Troyes, and other strong places; and she had
defeated an English army in a fair field at Patay. The
enthusiasm of her countrymen knew no bounds; but the importance
of her services, and especially of her primary achievement at
Orleans, may perhaps be best proved by the testimony of her
enemies. There is extant a fragment of a letter from the Regent
Bedford to his royal nephew, Henry VI., in which he bewails the
turn that the war had taken, and especially attributes it to the
raising of the siege of Orleans by Joan. Bedford's own words,
which are preserved in Rymer, [Vol. x. p. 403.] are as follows:--

"AND ALLE THING THERE PROSPERED FOR YOU TIL THE TYME OF THE SIEGE
OF ORLEANS, TAKEN IN HAND, GOD KNOWETH BY WHAT ADVIS.

"AT THE WHICHE TYME, AFTER THE ADVENTURE FALLEN TO THE PERSONE OF
MY COUSIN OF SALISBURY, WHOM GOD ASSOILLE, THERE FELLE, BY THE
HAND OF GOD AS IT SEEMETH, A GREAT STROOK UPON YOUR PEUPLE THAT
WAS ASSEMBLED THERE IN GRETE NOMBRE, CAUSED IN GRETE PARTIE, AS Y
TROWE, OF LAKKE OF SADDE BELEVE, AND OF UNLEVEFULLE DOUBTE, THAT
THEI HADDE OF A DISCIPLE AND LYME OF THE FEENDE, CALLED THE
PUCELLE, THAT USED FALS ENCHANTMENTS AND SORCERIE.

"THE WHICHE STROOKE AND DISCOMFITURE NOT OONLY LESSED IN GRETE

PARTIE THE NOMBRE OF YOUR PEUPLE THERE, BUT AS WELL WITHDREWE THE
COURAGE OF THE REMENANT IN MERVEILLOUS WYSE, AND COURAIGED YOUR
ADVERSE PARTIE AND ENNEMYS TO ASSEMBLE THEM FORTHWITH IN GRETE
NOMBRE."

When Charles had been anointed King of France, Joan believed that
her mission was accomplished. And in truth the deliverance of
France from the English, though not completed for many years
afterwards, was then insured. The ceremony of a royal coronation
and anointment was not in those days regarded as a mere costly
formality. It was believed to confer the sanction and the grace
of heaven upon the prince, who had previously ruled with mere
human authority. Thenceforth he was the Lord's Anointed.
Moreover, one of the difficulties that had previously lain in the
way of many Frenchman when called on to support Charles VII. was
now removed. He had been publicly stigmatised, even by his own
parents, as no true son of the royal race of France. The queen-
mother, the English, and the partisans of Burgundy, called him
the "Pretender to the title of Dauphin;" but those who had been
led to doubt his legitimacy, were cured of their scepticism by
the victories of the Holy Maid, and by the fulfilment of her
pledges. They thought that heaven had now declared itself in
favour of Charles as the true heir of the crown of St. Louis; and
the tales about his being spurious were thenceforth regarded as
mere English calumnies. With this strong tide of national
feeling in his favour, with victorious generals and soldiers
round him, and a dispirited and divided enemy before him, he
could not fail to conquer; though his own imprudence and
misconduct, and the stubborn valour which some of the English
still displayed, prolonged the war in France nearly to the time
when the civil war of the Roses broke out in England, and insured
for France peace and repose.

Joan knelt before the new-crowned king in the cathedral of

Rheims, and shed tears of joy. She said that she had then
fulfilled the work which the Lord had commanded her. The young
girl now asked for her dismissal. She wished to return to her
peasant home, to tend her parent's flocks again, and to live at
her own will in her native village. ["Je voudrais bien qu'il
voulut me faire ramener aupres mes pere et mere, et garder leurs
brebis et betail, et faire ce que je voudrois faire."] She had
always believed that her career would be a short one. But
Charles and his captains were loth to lose the presence of one
who had such an influence upon the soldiery and the people. They
persuaded her to stay with the army. She still showed the same
bravery and zeal for the cause of France. She was as fervent as
before in her prayers, and as exemplary in all religious duties.
She still heard her Heavenly Voices, but; she now no longer
thought herself the appointed minister of heaven to lead her
countrymen to certain victory. Our admiration for her courage
and patriotism ought to be increased a hundred-fold by her
conduct throughout the latter part of her career, amid dangers,
against which she no longer believed herself to be divinely
secured. Indeed she believed herself doomed to perish in little
more than a year; ["Des le commencement elle avait dit, 'Il me
faut employer: je ne durerai qu'un an, ou guere plus."--
MICHELAIT v. p. 101.] but she still fought on as resolutely, if
not as exultingly as ever.

As in the case of Arminius, the interest attached to individual

heroism and virtue makes us trace the fate of Joan of Arc after
she had saved her country. She served well with Charles's army
in the capture of Laon, Soissons, Compeigne, Beauvais, and other
strong places; but in a premature attack on Paris, in September
1429, the French were repulsed, and Joan was severely wounded in
the winter she was again in the field with some of the French
troops; and in the following spring she threw herself into the
fortress of Compeigne, which she had herself won for the French
king in the preceding autumn, and which was now besieged by a
strong Burgundian force.

She was taken prisoner in a sally from Compeigne, on the 24th of

May, and was imprisoned by the Burgundians first at Arras, and
then at a place called Crotoy, on the Flemish coast, until
November, when for payment of a large sum of money, she was given
up to the English, and taken to Rouen, which was then their main
stronghold in France.

"Sorrow it were, and shame to tell,

 The butchery that there befell:"

And the revolting details of the cruelties practised upon this

young girl may be left to those, whose duty as avowed
biographers, it is to describe them. [The whole of the "Proces
de Condamnation at de Rehabilitation de Jeanne d'Arc" has been
published in five volumes, by the Societe de l'Histoire de
France. All the passages from contemporary chroniclers and poets
are added; and the most ample materials are thus given for
acquiring full information on a subject which is, to an
Englishman, one of painful interest. There is an admirable essay
on Joan of Arc, in the 138th number of the QUARTERLY.] She was
tried before an ecclesiastical tribunal on the charge of
witchcraft, and on the 30th of May, 1431, she was burnt alive in
the market-place at Rouen.

I will add but one remark on the character of the truest heroine
that the world has ever seen.

If any person can be found in the present age who would join in
the scoffs of Voltaire against the Maid of Orleans and the
Heavenly Voices by which she believed herself inspired, let him
read the life of the wisest and best man that the heathen nations
ever produced. Let him read of the Heavenly Voice, by which
Socrates believed himself to be constantly attended; which
cautioned him on his way from the field of battle at Delium, and
which from his boyhood to the time of his death visited him with
unearthly warnings. [See Cicero, de Divinatione, lib. i. sec.
41; and see the words of Socrates himself, in Plato, Apol. Soc.]
Let the modern reader reflect upon this; and then, unless he is
prepared to term Socrates either fool or impostor, let him not
dare to deride or vilify Joan of Arc.

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS BETWEEN JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS, A.D.

1429, AND THE DEFEAT OP THE SPANISH ARMADA, A.D. 1588.

A.D. 1452. Final expulsion of the English from France.

1453. Constantinople taken, and the Roman empire of the East

destroyed by the Turkish Sultan Mahomet II.

1455. Commencement of the civil wars in England between the

Houses of York and Lancaster.

1479. Union of the Christian kingdoms of Spain under Ferdinand

and Isabella.

1492. Capture of Grenada by Ferdinand and Isabella, and end of

the Moorish dominion in Spain.

1492. Columbus discovers the New World.

1494. Charles VIII. of France invades Italy.

1497. Expedition of Vasco di Gama to the East Indies round the

Cape of Good Hope.
1503. Naples conquered from the French by the great Spanish
general, Gonsalvo of Cordova.

1508. League of Cambray, by the Pope, the Emperor, and the King
of France, against Venice.

1509. Albuquerque establishes the empire of the Portuguese in

the East Indies.

1516. Death of Ferdinand of Spain; he is succeeded by his

grandson Charles, afterwards the Emperor Charles V.

1517. Dispute between Luther and Tetzel respecting the sale of

indulgences, which is the immediate cause of the Reformation.

1519. Charles V. is elected Emperor of Germany.

1520. Cortez conquers Mexico.

1525. Francis I. of France defeated and taken prisoner by the

imperial army at Pavia.

1529. League of Smalcald formed by the Protestant princes of

Germany.

1533. Henry VIII. renounces the Papal supremacy.

1533. Pizarro conquers Peru.

1556. Abdication of the Emperor Charles V. Philip II. becomes

King of Spain, and Ferdinand I. Emperor of Germany.

1557.[sic] Elizabeth becomes Queen of England.

1557. The Spaniards defeat the French at the battle of St.

Quentin.

1571. Don John of Austria at the head of the Spanish fleet,

aided by the Venetian and the Papal squadrons, defeats the Turks
at Lepanto.

1572. Massacre of the Protestants in France on St. Bartholomew's

day.

1579. The Netherlands revolt against Spain.

1580. Philip II. conquers Portugal.

CHAPTER X.

THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA, A.D. 1588.

"In that memorable year, when the dark cloud gathered round our
coasts, when Europe stood by in fearful suspense to behold what
should be the result of that great cast in the game of human
politics, what the craft of Rome, the power of Philip, the genius
of Farnese, could achieve against the island-queen, with her
Drakes and Cecils,--in that agony of the Protestant faith and
English name."--HALLAM, CONST. HIST. vol. i. p. 220.

On the afternoon of the 19th of July, A.D. 1588, a group of

English captains was collected at the Bowling Green on the Hoe at
Plymouth, whose equals have never before or since been brought
together, even at that favourite mustering-place of the heroes of
the British navy. There was Sir Francis Drake, the first English
circumnavigator of the globe, the terror of every Spanish coast
in the Old World and the New; there was Sir John Hawkins, the
rough veteran of many a daring voyage on the African and American
seas, and of many a desperate battle; there was Sir Martin
Frobisher, one of the earliest explorers of the Arctic seas in
search of that North-West Passage which is still the darling
object of England's boldest mariners. There was the high-admiral
of England, Lord Howard of Effingham, prodigal of all things in
his country's cause, and who had recently had the noble daring to
refuse to dismantle part of the fleet, though the Queen had sent
him orders to do so, in consequence of an exaggerated report that
the enemy had been driven back and shattered by a storm. Lord
Howard (whom contemporary writers describe as being of a wise and
noble courage, skilful in sea matters, wary and provident, and of
great esteem among the sailors) resolved to risk his sovereign's
anger, and to keep the ships afloat at his own charge, rather
than that England should run the peril of losing their
protection.

Another of our Elizabethan sea-kings, Sir Walter Raleigh, was at

that time commissioned to raise and equip the land-forces of
Cornwall; but, as he was also commander of Plymouth, we may well
believe that he must have availed himself of the opportunity of
consulting with the lord-admiral and other high officers which
was offered by the English fleet putting into that port; and we
may look on Raleigh as one of the group that was assembled at the
Bowling Green on the Hoe. Many other brave men and skilful
mariners, besides the chiefs whose names have been mentioned,
were there, enjoying, with true sailor-like merriment, their
temporary relaxation from duty. In the harbour lay the English
fleet with which they had just returned from a cruise to Corunna
in search of information respecting the real condition and
movements of the hostile, Armada. Lord Howard had ascertained
that our enemies, though tempest-tost, were still formidably
strong; and fearing that part of their fleet might make for
England in his absence, he had hurried back to the Devonshire
coast. He resumed his station at Plymouth, and waited there for
certain tidings of the Spaniard's approach.

A match at bowls was being played, in which Drake and other high
officers of the fleet were engaged, when a small armed vessel was
seen running before the wind into Plymouth harbour, with all
sails set. Her commander landed in haste, and eagerly sought the
place where the English lord-admiral and his captains were
standing. His name was Fleming; he was the master of a Scotch
privateer; and he told the English officers that he had that
morning seen the Spanish Armada off the Cornish coast. At this
exciting information the captains began to hurry down to the
water, and there was a shouting for the ship's boats: but Drake
coolly checked his comrades, and insisted that the match should
be played out. He said that there was plenty of time both to win
the game and beat the Spaniards. The best and bravest match that
ever was scored was resumed accordingly. Drake and his friends
aimed their last bowls with the same steady calculating coolness
with which they were about to point their guns. The winning cast
was made; and then they went on board and prepared for action,
with their hearts as light and their nerves as firm as they had
been on the Hoe Bowling Green.

Meanwhile the messengers and signals had been despatched fast and
far through England, to warn each town and village that the enemy
had come at last. In every seaport there was instant making
ready by land and by sea; in every shire and every city there was
instant mustering of horse and man. [In Macaulay's Ballad on the
Spanish Armada, the transmission of the tidings of the Armada's
approach, and the arming of the English nation, are magnificently
described. The progress of the fire-signals is depicted in lines
which are worthy of comparison with the renowned passage in the
Agamemnon, which describes the transmission of the beacon-light
announcing the fall of Troy, from Mount Ida to Argos.] But
England's best defence then, as ever, was her fleet; and after
warping laboriously out of Plymouth harbour against the wind, the
lord-admiral stood westward under easy sail, keeping an anxious
look-out for the Armada, the approach of which was soon announced
by Cornish fishing-boats, and signals from the Cornish cliffs.

The England of our own days is so strong, and the Spain of our
own days is so feeble, that it is not possible, without some
reflection and care, to comprehend the full extent of the peril
which England then ran from the power and the ambition of Spain,
or to appreciate the importance of that crisis in the history of
the world. We had then no Indian or Colonial Empire save the
feeble germs of our North American settlements, which Raleigh and
Gilbert had recently planted. Scotland was a separate kingdom;
and Ireland was then even a greater source of weakness, and a
worse nest of rebellion than she has been in after times. Queen
Elizabeth had found at her accession an encumbered revenue, a
divided people and an unsuccessful foreign war, in which the last
remnant of our possessions in France had been lost; she had also
a formidable pretender to her crown, whose interests were
favoured by all the Roman Catholic powers; and even some of her
subjects were warped by religious bigotry to deny her title, and
to look on her as an heretical usurper. It is true that during
the years of her reign which had passed away before the attempted
invasion of 1588, she had revived the commercial prosperity, the
national spirit, and the national loyalty of England. But her
resources, to cope with the colossal power of Philip II., still
seemed most scanty; and she had not a single foreign ally, except
the Dutch, who were themselves struggling hard, and, as it
seemed, hopelessly, to maintain their revolt against Spain.

On the other hand Philip II, was absolute master of an empire so

superior to the other states of the world in extent, in resources
and especially in military and naval forces, as to make the
project of enlarging that empire into a universal monarchy seem a
perfectly feasible scheme; and Philip had both the ambition to
form that project, and the resolution to devote all his energies,
and all his means, to its realization. Since the downfall of the
Roman empire no such preponderating power had existed in the
world. During the mediaeval centuries the chief European
kingdoms were slowly moulding themselves out of the feudal chaos.
And, though their wars with each other were numerous and
desperate, and several of their respective kings figured for a
time as mighty conquerors, none of them in those times acquired
the consistency and perfect organization which are requisite for
a long-sustained career of aggrandizement. After the
consolidation of the great kingdoms, they for some time kept each
other in mutual check. During the first half of the sixteenth
century, the balancing system was successfully practised by
European statesmen. But when Philip II. reigned, France had
become so miserably weak through her civil wars, that he had
nothing to dread from the rival state, which had so long curbed
his father the Emperor Charles V. In Germany, Italy, and Poland
he had either zealous friends and dependents, or weak and divided
enemies. Against the Turks he had gained great and glorious
successes; and he might look round the continent of Europe
without discerning a single antagonist of whom he could stand in
awe. Spain, when he acceded to the throne, was at the zenith of
her power. The hardihood and spirit which the Arragonese, the
Castilians, and the other nations of the peninsula had acquired
during centuries of free institutions and successful war against
the Moors, had not yet become obliterated. Charles V. had,
indeed, destroyed the liberties of Spain; but that had been done
too recently for its full evil to be felt in Philip's time. A
people cannot be debased in a single generation; and the
Spaniards under Charles V. and Philip II. proved the truth of the
remark, that no nation is ever so formidable to its neighbours,
for a time, as is a nation, which, after being trained up in
self-government, passes suddenly under a despotic ruler. The
energy of democratic institutions survives for a few generations,
and to it are superadded the decision and certainty which are the
attributes of government, when all its powers are directed by a
single mind. It is true that this preter-natural vigour is
short-lived: national corruption and debasement gradually follow
the loss of the national liberties; but there is an interval
before their workings are felt, and in that interval the most
ambitious schemes of foreign conquest are often successfully
undertaken.

Philip had also the advantage of finding himself at the head of a

large standing army in a perfect state of discipline and
equipment, in an age when, except some few insignificant corps,
standing armies were unknown in Christendom. The renown of the
Spanish troops was justly high, and the infantry in particular
was considered the best in the world. His fleet, also, was far
more numerous, and better appointed, than that of any other
European power; and both his soldiers and his sailors had the
confidence in themselves and their commanders, which a long
career of successful warfare alone can create.

Besides the Spanish crown, Philip succeeded to the kingdom, of

Naples and Sicily, the Duchy of Milan, Franche-Comte, and the
Netherlands. In Africa he possessed Tunis, Oran, the Cape Verde
and the Canary Islands; and in Asia, the Philippine and Sunda
Islands and a part of the Moluccas. Beyond the Atlantic he was
lord of the most splendid portions of the New world which
"Columbus found for Castile and Leon." The empire of Peru and
Mexico, New Spain, and Chili, with their abundant mines of the
precious metals, Hispaniola and Cuba, and many other of the
American Islands, were provinces of the sovereign of Spain.

Philip had, indeed, experienced the mortification of seeing the

inhabitants of the Netherlands revolt against his authority, nor
could he succeed in bringing back beneath the Spanish sceptre all
the possessions which his father had bequeathed to him. But he
had reconquered a large number of the towns and districts that
originally took up arms against him. Belgium was brought more
thoroughly into implicit obedience to Spain than she had been
before her insurrection, and it was only Holland and the six
other Northern States that still held out against his arms. The
contest had also formed a compact and veteran army on Philip's
side, which, under his great general, the Prince of Parma, had
been trained to act together under all difficulties and all
vicissitudes of warfare; and on whose steadiness and loyalty
perfect reliance might be placed throughout any enterprise,
however difficult and tedious. Alexander Farnese, Prince of
Parma, captain-general of the Spanish armies, and governor of the
Spanish possessions in the Netherlands was beyond all comparison
the greatest military genius of his age. He was also highly
distinguished for political wisdom and sagacity, and for his
great administrative talents. He was idolised by his troops,
whose affections he knew how to win without relaxing their
discipline or diminishing his own authority. Pre-eminently cool
and circumspect in his plans, but swift and energetic when the
moment arrived for striking a decisive blow, neglecting no risk
that caution could provide against, conciliating even the
populations of the districts which he attacked by his scrupulous
good faith, his moderation, and his address, Farnese was one of
the most formidable generals that ever could be placed at the
head of an army designed not only to win battles, but to effect
conquests. Happy it is for England and the world that this
island was saved from becoming an arena for the exhibition of his
powers.

Whatever diminution the Spanish empire might have sustained in

the Netherlands, seemed to be more than compensated by the
acquisition of Portugal, which Philip had completely conquered in
1580. Not only that ancient kingdom itself, but all the fruits
of the maritime enterprises of the Portuguese had fallen into
Philip's hands. All the Portuguese colonies in America, Africa,
and the East Indies, acknowledged the sovereignty of the King of
Spain; who thus not only united the whole Iberian peninsula under
his single sceptre, but had acquired a transmarine empire, little
inferior in wealth and extent to that which he had inherited at
his accession. The splendid victory which his fleet, in
conjunction with the Papal and Venetian galleys, had gained at
Lepanto over the Turks, had deservedly exalted the fame of the
Spanish marine throughout Christendom; and when Philip had
reigned thirty-five years, the vigour of his empire seemed
unbroken, and the glory of the Spanish arms had increased, and
was increasing throughout the world.
One nation only had been his active, his persevering, and his
successful foe. England had encouraged his revolted subjects in
Flanders against him, and given them the aid in men and money
without which they must soon have been humbled in the dust.
English ships had plundered his colonies; had denied his
supremacy in the New World, as well as the Old; they had
inflicted ignominious defeats on his squadrons; they had captured
his cities, and burned his arsenals on the very coasts of Spain.
The English had made Philip himself the object of personal
insult. He was held up to ridicule in their stage plays and
masks, and these scoffs at the man had (as is not unusual in such
cases) excited the anger of the absolute king, even more
vehemently than the injuries inflicted on his power. [See
Ranke's Hist. Popes, vol. ii. p. 170.] Personal as well as
political revenge urged him to attack England. Were she once
subdued, the Dutch must submit; France could not cope with him,
the empire would not oppose him; and universal dominion seemed
sure to be the result of the conquest of that malignant island.

There was yet another and a stronger feeling which armed King
Philip against England. He was one of the sincerest and sternest
bigots of his age. He looked on himself, and was looked on by
others, as the appointed champion to extirpate heresy and re-
establish the Papal power throughout Europe. A powerful reaction
against Protestantism had taken place since the commencement of
the second half of the sixteenth century, and Philip believed
that he was destined to complete it. The Reform doctrines had
been thoroughly rooted out from Italy and Spain. Belgium, which
had previously been half Protestant, had been reconquered both in
allegiance and creed by Philip, and had become one of the most
Catholic countries in the world. Half Germany had been won back
to the old faith. In Savoy, in Switzerland and many other
countries, the progress of the counter-Reformation had been rapid
and decisive. The Catholic league seemed victorious in France.
The Papal Court itself had shaken off the supineness of recent
centuries; and, at the head of the Jesuits and the other new
ecclesiastical orders, was displaying a vigour and a boldness
worthy of the days of Hildebrand or Innocent III.

Throughout continental Europe, the Protestants, discomfited and

dismayed, looked to England as their protector and refuge.
England was the acknowledged central point of Protestant power
and policy; and to conquer England was to stab Protestantism to
the very heart. Sixtus V., the then reigning pope, earnestly
exhorted Philip to this enterprise. And when the tidings reached
Italy and Spain that the Protestant Queen of England had put to
death her Catholic prisoner, Mary Queen of Scots, the fury of the
Vatican and Escurial knew no bounds.

The Prince of Parma, who was appointed military chief of the

expedition, collected on the coast of Flanders a veteran force
that was to play a principal part in the conquest of England.
Besides the troops who were in his garrisons, or under his
colours, five thousand infantry were sent to him from northern
and central Italy, four thousand from the kingdom of Naples, six
thousand from Castile, three thousand from Arragon, three
thousand from Austria and Germany, together with four squadrons
of heavy-armed horse; besides which he received forces from the
Franche-Comte and the Walloon country. By his command, the
forest of Waes was felled for the purpose of building flat-
bottomed boats, which, floating down the rivers and canals to
Meinport and Dunkerque, were to carry this large army of chosen
troops to the mouth of the Thames, under the escort of the great
Spanish fleet. Gun-carriages, fascines, machines used in sieges,
together with every material requisite for building bridges,
forming camps, and raising fortresses, were to be placed on board
the flotillas of the Prince of Parma, who followed up the
conquest of the Netherlands, whilst he was making preparations
for the invasion of this island. Favoured by the dissensions
between the insurgents of the United Provinces and Leicester, the
Prince of Parma had recovered Deventer, as well as a fort before
Zutphen, which the English commanders, Sir William Stanley, the
friend of Babbington, and Sir Roland York, had surrendered to
him, when with their troops they passed over to the service of
Philip II., after the death of Mary Stuart, and he had also made
himself master of the Sluys. His intention was to leave to the
Count de Mansfeldt sufficient forces to follow up the war with
the Dutch, which had now become a secondary object, whilst he
himself went at the head of fifty thousand men of the Armada and
the flotilla, to accomplish the principal enterprise--that
enterprise, which, in the highest degree, affected the interests
of the pontifical authority. In a bull, intended to be kept
secret until the day of landing, Sixtus V., renewing the anathema
fulminated against Elizabeth by Pius V. and Gregory XIII.,
affected to depose her from our throne. [See Mignet's Mary Queen
of Scots vol. ii.]

Elizabeth was denounced as a murderous heretic whose destruction

was an instant duty. A formal treaty was concluded (in June,
1587), by which the pope bound himself to contribute a million of
scudi to the expenses of the war; the money to be paid as soon as
the king had actual possession of an English port. Philip, on
his part, strained the resources of his vast empire to the
utmost. The French Catholic chiefs eagerly co-operated with him.
In the sea-ports of the Mediterranean, and along almost the whole
coast from Gibraltar to Jutland, the preparations for the great
armament were urged forward with all the earnestness of religious
zeal, as well as of angry ambition.--"Thus," says the German
historian of the Popes, [Ranke, vol ii. p. 172.] "thus did the
united powers of Italy and Spain, from which such mighty
influences had gone forth over the whole world, now rouse
themselves for an attack upon England! The king had already
compiled, from the archives of Simancas, a statement of the
claims which he had to the throne of that country on the
extinction of the Stuart line; the most brilliant prospects,
especially that of an universal dominion of the seas, were
associated in his mind with this enterprise. Everything seemed
to conspire to such end; the predominance of Catholicism in
Germany, the renewed attack upon the Huguenots in France, the
attempt upon Geneva, and the enterprise against England. At the
same moment a thoroughly Catholic prince, Sigismund III.,
ascended the throne of Poland, with the prospect also of future
succession to the throne of Sweden. But whenever any principle
or power, be it what it may, aims at unlimited supremacy in
Europe, some vigorous resistance to it, having its origin in the
deepest springs of human nature, invariably arises. Philip II.
had had, to encounter newly-awakened powers, braced by the vigour
of youth, and elevated by a sense of their future destiny. The
intrepid corsairs, who had rendered every sea insecure, now
clustered round the coasts of their native island. The
Protestants in a body,--even the Puritans, although they had been
subjected to as severe oppressions as the Catholics,--rallied
round their queen, who now gave admirable proof of her masculine
courage, and her princely talent of winning the affections, and
leading the minds, and preserving the allegiance of men."

Ranke should have added that the English Catholics at this crisis
proved themselves as loyal to their queen, and true to their
country, as were the most vehement anti-Catholic zealots in the
island. Some few traitors there were; but, as a body, the
Englishmen who held the ancient faith, stood the trial of their
patriotism nobly. The lord-admiral himself was a Catholic, and
(to adopt the words of Hallam) "then it was that the Catholics in
every county repaired to the standard of the lord-lieutenant,
imploring that they might not be suspected of bartering the
national independence for their religion itself." The Spaniard
found no partisans in the country which he assailed, nor did
England, self-wounded,

"Lie at the proud foot of her enemy."

For some time the destination of the enormous armament of Philip

was not publicly announced. Only Philip himself, the Pope
Sixtus, the Duke of Guise, and Philip's favourite minister,
Mendoza, at first knew its real object. Rumours were sedulously
spread that it was designed to proceed to the Indies to realize
vast projects of distant conquest. Sometimes hints were dropped
by Philip's ambassadors in foreign courts, that his master had
resolved on a decisive effort to crush his rebels in the Low
Countries. But Elizabeth and her statesmen could not view the
gathering of such a storm without feeling the probability of its
bursting on their own shores. As early as the spring of 1587,
Elizabeth sent Sir Francis Drake to cruise off the Tagus. Drake
sailed into the Bay of Cadiz and the Lisbon Roads, and burnt much
shipping and military stores, causing thereby an important delay
in the progress of the Spanish preparations. Drake called this
"Singeing the King of of Spain's beard." Elizabeth also
increased her succours of troops to the Netherlanders, to prevent
the Prince of Parma from overwhelming them, and from thence being
at full leisure to employ his army against her dominions.

Each party at this time thought it politic to try to amuse its

adversary by pretending to treat for peace, and negotiations were
opened at Ostend in the beginning of 1588, which were prolonged
during the first six months of that year. Nothing real was
effected, and probably nothing real had been intended to be
effected by them. But, in the meantime, each party had been
engaged in important communications with the chief powers in
France, in which Elizabeth seemed at first to have secured a
great advantage, but in which Philip ultimately prevailed.
"Henry III. of France was alarmed at the negotiations that were
going on at Ostend; and he especially dreaded any accommodation
between Spain and England, in consequence of which Philip II.
might be enabled to subdue the United Provinces, and make himself
master of France. In order, therefore, to dissuade Elizabeth
from any arrangement, he offered to support her, in case she were
attacked by the Spaniards, with twice the number of troops, which
he was bound by the treaty of 1574 to send to her assistance. He
had a long conference with her ambassador, Stafford, upon this
subject, and told him that the Pope and the Catholic King had
entered into a league against the queen, his mistress, and had
invited himself and the Venetians to join them, but they had
refused to do so. 'If the Queen of England,' he added,
'concludes a peace with the Catholic king, that peace will not
last three months, because the Catholic king will aid the League
with all his forces to overthrow her, and you may imagine what
fate is reserved for your mistress after that.' On the other
hand, in order most effectually to frustrate this negotiation, he
proposed to Philip II. to form a still closer union between the
two crowns of France and Spain: and, at the same time, he
secretly despatched a confidential envoy to Constantinople to
warn the Sultan, that if he did not again declare war against the
Catholic King, that monarch, who already possessed the
Netherlands, Portugal, Spain, the Indies, and nearly all Italy,
would soon make himself master of England, and would then turn
the forces of all Europe against the Turks." [Mignet's History
of Mary Queen of Scots. vol. ii.]

But Philip had an ally in France, who was far more powerful than
the French king. This was the Duke of Guise, the chief of the
League, and the idol of the fanatic partisans of the Romish
faith. Philip prevailed on Guise openly to take up arms against
Henry III. (who was reviled by the Leaguers as a traitor to the
true Church, and a secret friend to the Huguenots); and thus
prevent the French king from interfering in favour of Queen
Elizabeth. "With this object, the commander, Juan Iniguez Moreo,
was despatched by him in the early part of April to the Duke of
Guise at Soissons. He met with complete success. He offered the
Duke of Guise, as soon as he took the field against Henry III.,
three hundred thousand crowns, six thousand infantry, and twelve
hundred pikemen, on behalf of the king his master, who would, in
addition, withdraw his ambassador from the court of France, and
accredit an envoy to the Catholic party. A treaty was concluded
on these conditions, and the Duke of Guise entered Paris, where
he was expected by the Leaguers, and whence he expelled Henry
III. on the 12th of May, by the insurrection of the barricades.
A fortnight after this insurrection, which reduced Henry III. to
impotence, and, to use the language of the Prince of Parma, did
not even 'permit him to assist the Queen of England with his
tears, as he needed them all to weep over his own misfortunes,'
the Spanish fleet left the Tagus and sailed towards the British
isles." [Mignet.]

Meanwhile in England, from the sovereign on the throne to the

peasant in the cottage, all hearts and hands made ready to meet
the imminent deadly peril. Circular letters from the queen were
sent round to the lord-lieutenants of the several counties
requiring them "to call together the best sort of gentlemen under
their lieutenancy, and to declare unto them these great
preparations and arrogant threatenings, now burst forth in action
upon the seas, wherein every man's particular state, in the
highest degree, could be touched in respect of country, liberty,
wives, children, lands, lives, and (which was specially to be
regarded) the profession of the true and sincere religion of
Christ: and to lay before them the infinite and unspeakable
miseries that would fall out upon any such change, which miseries
were evidently seen by the fruits of that hard and cruel
government holden in countries not far distant. We do look,"
said the queen, "that the most part of them should have, upon
this instant extraordinary occasion, a larger proportion of
furniture, both for horseman and footmen, but especially
horsemen, than hath been certified; thereby to be in their best
strength against any attempt, or to be employed about our own
person, or otherwise. Hereunto as we doubt not but by your good
endeavours they will be the rather conformable, so also we assure
ourselves, that Almighty God will so bless these their loyal
hearts borne towards us, their loving sovereign, and their
natural country, that all the attempts of any enemy whatsoever
shall he made void and frustrate, to their confusion, your
comfort, and to God's high glory." [Strype, cited in Southey's
Naval History.]

Letters of a similar kind were also sent by the council to each

of the nobility, and to the great cities. The primate called on
the clergy for their contributions; and by every class of the
community the appeal was responded to with liberal zeal, that
offered more even than the queen required. The boasting threats
of the Spaniards had roused the spirit of the nation; and the
whole people "were thoroughly irritated to stir up their whole
forces for their defence against such prognosticated conquests;
so that, in a very short time, all the whole realm, and every
corner were furnished with armed men, on horseback and on foot;
and these continually trained, exercised, and put into bands, in
warlike manner, as in no age ever was before in this realm.
There was no sparing of money to provide horse, armour, weapons,
powder, and all necessaries; no, nor want of provision of
pioneers, carriages, and victuals, in every county of the realm,
without exception, to attend upon the armies. And to this
general furniture every man voluntarily offered, very many their
services personally without wages, others money for armour and
weapons, and to wage soldiers: a matter strange, and never the
like heard of in this realm or else where. And this general
reason moved all men to large contributions, that when a conquest
was to be withstood wherein all should be lost, it was no time to
spare a portion." [Copy of contemporary letter in the Harleian
Collection, quoted by Southey.]

Our lion-hearted queen showed herself worthy of such a people. A

camp was formed at Tilbury; and there Elizabeth rode through the
ranks, encouraging her captains and her soldiers by her presence
and her words. One of the speeches which she addressed to them
during this crisis has been preserved; and, though often quoted,
it must not be omitted here.

"My loving people," she said, "we have been persuaded by some
that are careful of our safety, to take heed how we commit
ourselves to armed multitudes for fear of treachery; but I assure
you I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving
people. Let tyrants fear! I have always so behaved myself,
that, under God, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard
in the loyal hearts and good will of my subjects; and, therefore,
I am come amongst you, as you see, at this time, not for my
recreation or disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat
of the battle, to live or die amongst you all, to lay down for my
God, for my kingdom, and for my people, my honour and my blood,
even in the dust. I know I have the body but of a weak and
feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of
a King of England too; and think it foul scorn that Parma, or
Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders
of my realm; to which, rather than any dishonour shall grow by
me, I myself will take up arms, I myself will be your general,
judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field. I
know already for your forwardness you have deserved rewards and
crowns; and we do assure you, on the word of a prince, they shall
be duly paid you. In the meantime, my lieutenant-general shall
be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded a more noble or
worthy subject, not doubting but by your obedience to my general,
by your concord in the camp, and your valour in the field, we
shall shortly have a famous victory over those enemies of my God,
of my kingdom, and of my people."

We have minute proofs of the skill with which the government of

Elizabeth made its preparations; for the documents still exist
which were drawn up at that time by the ministers and military
men who were consulted by Elizabeth respecting the defence of the
country. [See note in Tytler's Life of Raleigh, p. 71.] Among
those summoned to the advice of their queen at this crisis, were
Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord Grey, Sir Francis Knolles, Sir Thomas
Leighton, Sir John Norris, Sir Richard Grenville, Sir Richard
Bingham, and Sir Roger Williams; and the biographer of Sir Walter
Raleigh observes that "These councillors were chosen by the
queen, as being not only men bred to arms, and some of them, as
Grey, Norris, Bingham, and Grenville, of high military talents,
but of grave experience in affairs of state, and in the civil
government of provinces,--qualities by no means means
unimportant, when the debate referred not merely to the leading
of an army or the plan of a campaign, but to the organization of
a militia, and the communication with the magistrates for arming
the peasantry, and encouraging them to a resolute and
simultaneous resistance. From some private papers of Lord
Burleigh, it appears that Sir Walter took a principal share in
these deliberations; and the abstract of their proceedings, a
document still preserved, is supposed to have been drawn up by
him. They first prepared a list of places where it was likely
the Spanish army might attempt a descent, as well as of those
which lay most exposed to the forces under the Duke of Parma.
They next considered the speediest and most effectual means of
defence, whether by fortification or the muster of a military
array; and, lastly, deliberated on the course to be taken for
fighting the enemy if he should land."

Some of Elizabeth's advisers recommended that the whole care and

resources of the government should be devoted to the equipment of
the armies, and that the enemy, when he attempted to land, should
be welcomed with a battle on the shore. But the wiser counsels
of Raleigh and others prevailed, who urged the importance of
fitting out a fleet, that should encounter the Spaniards at sea,
and, if possible, prevent them from approaching the land at all.
In Raleigh's great work on the "History of the World," he takes
occasion, when discussing some of the events of the first Punic
war, to give his reasonings on the proper policy of England when
menaced with invasion. Without doubt, we have there the
substance of the advice which he gave to Elizabeth's council; and
the remarks of such a man, on such a subject, have a general and
enduring interest, beyond the immediate peril which called them
forth. Raleigh [Historie of the World pp. 799--801.] says:--
"Surely I hold that the best way is to keep our enemies from
treading upon our ground: wherein if we fail, then must we seek
to make him wish that he had stayed at his own home. In such a
case if it should happen, our judgments are to weigh many
particular circumstances, that belongs not unto this discourse.
But making the question general, the positive, WHETHER England,
WITHOUT THE HELP OF HER FLEET, BE ABLE TO DEBAR AN ENEMY FROM
LANDING; I hold that it is unable so to do; and therefore I think
it most dangerous to make the adventure. For the encouragement
of a first victory to an enemy, and the discouragement of being
beaten, to the invaded, may draw after it a most perilous
consequence.

"Great difference I know there is, and a diverse consideration to

be had, between such a country as France is, strengthened with
many fortified places; and this of ours, where our ramparts are
but the bodies of men. But I say that an army to be transported
over sea, and to be landed again in an enemy's country, and the
place left to the choice of the invader, cannot be resisted on
the coast of England, without a fleet to impeach it; no, nor on
the coast of France, or any other country; except every creek,
port, or sandy bay, had a powerful army, in each of them, to make
opposition. For let the supposition be granted that Kent is able
to furnish twelve thousand foot, and that those twelve thousand
be layed in the three best landing-places within that country, to
wit, three thousand at Margat, three thousand at the Nesse, and
six thousand at Foulkstone, that is, somewhat equally distant
from them both; as also that two of these troops (unless some
other order be thought more fit) be directed to strengthen the
third, when they shall see the enemies' fleet to head towards it:
I say, that notwithstanding this provision, if the enemy, setting
sail from the Isle of Wight, in the first watch of the night, and
towing their long boats at their sterns, shall arrive by dawn of
day at the Nesse, and thrust their army on shore there, it will
be hard for those three thousand that are at Margat (twenty-and-
four long miles from thence), to come time enough to reinforce
their fellows at the Nesse. Nay, how shall they at Foulkstone be
able to do it, who are nearer by more than half the way? seeing
that the enemy, at his first arrival, will either make his
entrance by force, with three or four shot of great artillery,
and quickly put the first three thousand that are entrenched at
the Nesse to run, or else give them so much to do that they shall
be glad to send for help to Foulkstone, and perhaps to Margat,
whereby those places will be left bare. Now let us suppose that
all the twelve thousand Kentish soldiers arrive at the Nesse, ere
the enemy can be ready to disembarque his army, so that he will
find it unsafe to land in the face of so many prepared to
withstand him, yet must we believe that he will play the best of
his own game (having liberty to go which way he list), and under
covert of the night, set sail towards the east, where what shall
hinder him to take ground either at Margat, the Downes, or
elsewhere, before they, at the Nesse, can be well aware of his
departure? Certainly there is nothing more easy than to do it.
Yea, the like may be said of Weymouth, Purbeck, Poole, and of all
landing-places on the south-west. For there is no man ignorant,
that ships without putting themselves out of breath, will easily
outrun the souldiers that coast them. 'LES ARMEES NE VOLENT
POINT EN POSTE;'--'Armies neither flye, nor run post,' saith a
marshal of France. And I know it to be true, that a fleet of
ships may be seen at sunset, and after it at the Lizard, yet by
the next morning they may recover Portland, whereas an army of
foot shall not be able to march it in six dayes. Again, when
those troops lodged on the sea-shores, shall be forced to run
from place to place in vain, after a fleet of ships, they will at
length sit down in the midway, and leave all at adventure. But
say it were otherwise, that the invading enemy will offer to land
in some such place, where there shall be an army of ours ready to
receive him; yet it cannot be doubted, but that when the choice
of all our trained bands, and the choice of our commanders and
captains, shall be drawn together (as they were at Tilbury in the
year 1588) to attend the person of the prince, and for the
defence of the city of London; they that remain to guard the
coast can be of no such force as to encounter an army like unto
that wherewith it was intended that the Prince of Parma should
have landed in England.

"For end of this digression, I hope that this question shall

never come to trial; his majestie's many moveable forts will
forbid the experience. And although the English will no less
disdain that any nation under heaven can do, to be beaten, upon
their own ground, or elsewhere, by a foreign enemy; yet to
entertain those that shall assail us with their own beef in their
bellies, and before they eat of our Kentish capons, I take it to
be the wisest way; to do which his majesty, after God, will
employ his good ships on the sea, and not trust in any
intrenchment upon the shore."

The introduction of steam as a propelling power at sea, has added

tenfold weight to these arguments of Raleigh, On the other hand,
a well-constructed system of railways, especially of coast-lines,
aided by the operation or the electric telegraph, would give
facilities for concentrating a defensive army to oppose an enemy
on landing, and for moving troops from place to place in
observation of the movements of the hostile fleet, such as would
have astonished Sir Walter even more than the sight of vessels
passing rapidly to and fro without the aid of wind or tide. The
observation of the French marshal, whom he quotes, is now no
longer correct. Armies can be made to pass from place to place
almost with the speed of wings, and far more rapidly than any
post-travelling that was known in the Elizabethan or any other
age. Still, the presence of a sufficient armed force at the
right spot, at the right time, can never be made a matter of
certainty; and even after the changes that have taken place, no
one can doubt but that the policy of Raleigh is that which
England should ever seek to follow in defensive war. At the time
of the Armada, that policy certainly saved the country, if not
from conquest, at least from deplorable calamities. If indeed
the enemy had landed, we may be sure that be would have been
heroically opposed. But history shows us so many examples of the
superiority of veteran troops over new levies, however numerous
and brave, that without disparaging our countrymen's soldierly
merits, we may well be thankful that no trial of them was then
made on English land. Especially must we feel this, when we
contrast the high military genius of the Prince of Parma, who
would have headed the Spaniards, with the imbecility of the Earl
of Leicester, to whom the deplorable spirit of favouritism, which
formed the greatest blemish in Elizabeth's character, had then
committed the chief command of the English armies.

The ships of the royal navy at this time amounted to no more than
thirty-six; but the most serviceable merchant vessels were
collected from all the ports of the country; and the citizens of
London, Bristol, and the other great seats of commerce, showed as
liberal a zeal in equipping and manning vessels as the nobility
and gentry displayed in mustering forces by land. The seafaring
population of the coast, of every rank and station, was animated
by the same ready spirit; and the whole number of seamen who came
forward to man the English fleet was 17,472. The number of the
ships that were collected was 191; and the total amount of their
tonnage 31,985. There was one ship in the fleet (the Triumph) of
1100 tons, one of 1000, one of 900, two of 800 each, three of
600, five of 600, five of 400, six of 300, six of 250, twenty of
200, and the residue of inferior burden. Application was made to
the Dutch for assistance; and, as Stows expresses it, "The
Hollanders came roundly in, with threescore sail, brave ships of
war, fierce and full of spleen, not so much for England's aid, as
in just occasion for their own defence; these men foreseeing the
greatness of the danger that might ensue, if the Spaniards should
chance to win the day and get the mastery over them; in due
regard whereof their manly courage was inferior to none."

We have more minute information of the numbers and equipment of

the hostile forces than we have of our own. In the first volume
of Hakluyt's "Voyages," dedicated to Lord Effingham, who
commanded against the Armada, there is given (from the
contemporary foreign writer, Meteran) a more complete and
detailed catalogue than has perhaps ever appeared of a similar
armament.

"A very large and particular description of this navie was put in
print and published by the Spaniards; wherein was set downe the
number, names, and burthens of the shippes, the number of
mariners and soldiers throughout the whole fleete; likewise the
quantitie of their ordinance, of their armour of bullets, of
match, of gun-poulder, of victuals, and of all their navall
furniture, was in the saide description particularized. Unto all
these were added the names of the governours, captaines,
noblemen, and gentlemen voluntaries, of whom there was so great a
multitude, that scarce was there any family of accompt, or any
one principall man throughout all Spaine, that had not a brother,
sonne, or kinsman in that fleete; who all of them were in good
hope to purchase unto themselves in that navie (as they termed
it) invincible, endless glory and renown, and to possess
themselves of great seigniories and riches in England, and in the
Low Countreys. But because the said description was translated
and published out of Spanish into divers other languages, we will
here only make an abridgement or brief rehearsal thereof.

"Portugal furnished and set foorth under the conduct of the Duke
of Medina Sidonia, generall of the fleete, ten galeons, two
zabraes, 1300 mariners, 3300 souldiers, 300 great pieces, with
all requisite furniture.

"Biscay, under the conduct of John Martines de Ricalde, admiral

of the whole fleete, set forth tenne galeons, four pataches, 700
mariners, 2000 souldiers, 260 great pieces, &c.

"Guipusco, under the conduct of Michael de Orquendo, tenne

galeons, four pataches, 700 mariners, 2000 souldiers, 310 great
pieces.

"Italy with the Levant Islands, under Martine de Vertendona, ten

galeons, 800 mariners, 2000 souldiers, 310 great pieces, &c.

"Castile, under Diego Flores de Valdez, fourteen galeons, two

pataches, 1700 mariners, 2400 souldiers, and 388 great pieces,
&c.

"Andaluzia, under the conduct of Petro de Valdez, ten galeons,

one patache, 800 mariners, 2400 souldiers, 280 great pieces, &c.

"Item, under the conduct of John Lopez de Medina, twenty-three

great Flemish hulkes, with 700 mariners, 3200 souldiers, and 400
great pieces,

"Item, under Hugo de Moncada, fours galliasses, containing 1200

gally-slaves, 460 mariners, 870 souldiers, 200 great pieces, &c.

"Item, under Diego de Mandrana, fours gallies of Portugall with

888 gally-slaves, 360 mariners, twenty great pieces, and other
requisite furniture.

"Item, under Anthonie de Mendoza, twenty-two pataches and

zabraes, with 574 mariners, 488 souldiers, and 193 great pieces.

"Besides the ships aforementioned, there were twenty caravels

rowed with oares, being appointed to perform necessary services
under the greater ships, insomuch that all the ships appertayning
to this navie amounted unto the summe of 150, eche one being
sufficiently provided of furniture and victuals.

"The number of mariners in the saide fleete were above 8000, of

slaves 2088, of souldiers 20,000 (besides noblemen and gentlemen
voluntaries), of great cast pieces 2600. The aforesaid ships
were of an huge and incredible capacitie and receipt: for the
whole fleete was large enough to contains the burthen of 60,000
tunnes.

"The galeons were 64 in number, being of an huge bignesse, and

very flately built, being of marveilous force also, and so high,
that they resembled great castles, most fit to defend themselves
and to withstand any assault, but in giving any other ships the
encounter farr inferiour unto the English and Dutch ships, which
can with great dexteritie weild and turne themselves at all
assayes. The upperworke of the said galeons was of thicknesse
and strength sufficient to bear off musket-shot. The lower works
and the timbers thereof were out of measure strong, being framed
of plankes and ribs fours or five foote in thicknesse, insomuch
that no bullets could pierce them, but such as were discharged
hard at hand; which afterward prooved true, for a great number of
bullets were found to sticke fast within the massie substance of
those thicke plankes. Great and well pitched cables were twined
about the masts of their shippes, to strengthen them against the
battery of shot.

"The galliasses were of such bignesse, that they contained within

them chambers, chapels, turrets, pulpits, and other commodities
of great houses. The galliasses were rowed with great oares,
there being in eche one of them 300 slaves for the same purpose
and were able to do great service with the force of their
ordinance. All these, together with the residue aforenamed, were
furnished and beautified with trumpets, streamers, banners,
warlike ensignes, and other such like ornaments.

"Their pieces of brazen ordinance were 1600, and of yron 1000.

"The bullets thereto belonging were 120 thousand.

"Item of gun-poulder, 5600 quintals. Of matche, 1200 quintals.

Of muskets and kaleivers, 7000. Of haleberts and partisans,
10,000.

"Moreover they had great store of canons, double-canons,

culverings and field-pieces for land services.

"Likewise they were provided of all instruments necessary on land

to conveigh and transport their furniture from place to place; as
namely of carts, wheeles, wagons, &c. Also they had spades,
mattocks, and baskets, to set pioners to works. They had in like
sort great store of mules and horses, and whatsoever else was
requisite for a land-armie. They were so well stored of biscuit,
that for the space of halfe a yeere, they might allow eche person
in the whole fleete halfe a quintall every month; whereof the
whole summe amounteth unto an hundreth thousand quintals.

"Likewise of wine they had 147 thousand pipes, sufficient also

for halfe a yeeres expedition. Of bacon, 6500 quintals. Of
cheese, three thousand quintals. Besides fish, rise, beanes,
pease, oils, vinegar, &c.

"Moreover they had 12,000 pipes of fresh water, and all other
necessary provision, as, namely, candles, lanternes, lampes,
sailes, hempe, oxe-hides, and lead to stop holes that should be
made with the battery of gun-shot. To be short, they brought all
things expedient, either for a fleete by sea, or for an armie by
land.

"This navie (as Diego Pimentelli afterward confessed) was

esteemed by the king himselfe to containe 32,000 persons, and to
cost him every day 30 thousand ducates.

"There were in the said navie five terzaes of Spaniards (which

terzaes the Frenchmen call regiments), under the command of five
governours, termed by the Spaniards masters of the field, and
amongst the rest there were many olde and expert souldiers chosen
out of the garisons of Sicilie, Naples, and Tercera. Their
captaines or colonels were Diego Pimentelli, Don Francisco de
Toledo, Don Alonco de Lucon, Don Nicolas de Isla, Don Augustin de
Mexia; who had each of them thirty-two companies under their
conduct. Besides the which companies, there were many bands also
of Castilians and Portugals, every one of which had their
peculiar governours, captains, officers, colours, and weapons."

While this huge armada was making ready in the southern ports of
the Spanish dominions, the Prince of Parma, with almost
incredible toil and skill, collected a squadron of war-ships at
Dunkirk, and his flotilla of other ships and of flat-bottomed
boats for the transport to England of the picked troops, which
were designed to be the main instruments in subduing England.
Thousands of workmen were employed, night and day, in the
construction of these vessels, in the ports of Flanders and
Brabant. One hundred of the kind called hendes, built at
Antwerp, Bruges, and Ghent, and laden with provision and
ammunition, together with sixty flat-bottomed boats, each capable
of carrying thirty horses, were brought, by means of canals and
fosses, dug expressly for the purpose, to Nieuport and Dunkirk.
One hundred smaller vessels were equipped at the former place,
and thirty-two at Dunkirk, provided with twenty thousand empty
barrels, and with materials for making pontoons, for stopping up
the harbours, and raising forts and entrenchments. The army
which these vessels were designed to convey to England amounted
to thirty thousand strong, besides a body of four thousand
cavalry, stationed at Courtroi, composed chiefly of the ablest
veterans of Europe; invigorated by rest, (the siege of Sluys
having been the only enterprise in which they were employed
during the last campaign,) and excited by the hopes of plunder
and the expectation of certain conquest. [Davis's Holland, vol.
ii. p. 219.] And "to this great enterprise and imaginary
conquest, divers princes and noblemen came from divers countries;
out of Spain came the Duke of Pestrana, who was said to be the
son of Ruy Gomez de Silva, but was held to be the king's bastard;
the Marquis of Bourgou, one of the Archduke Ferdinand's sons, by
Philippina Welserine; Don Vespasian Gonzaga, of the house of
Mantua, a great soldier, who had been viceroy in Spain; Giovanni
de Medici, Bastard of Florence; Amedo, Bastard of Savoy, with
many such like, besides others of meaner quality." [Grimstone,
cited in Southey.]

Philip had been advised by the deserter, Sir William Stanley, not
to attack England in the first instance, but first to effect a
landing and secure a strong position in Ireland; his admiral,
Santa Cruz, had recommended him to make sure, in the first
instance, of some large harbour on the coast of Holland or
Zealand, where the Armada, having entered the Channel, might find
shelter in case of storm, and whence it could sail without
difficulty for England; but Philip rejected both these counsels,
and directed that England itself should be made the immediate
object of attack; and on the 20th of May the Armada left the
Tagus, in the pomp and pride of supposed invincibility, and
amidst the shouts of thousands, who believed that England was
already conquered. But steering to the northward, and before it
was clear of the coast of Spain, the Armada, was assailed by a
violent storm, and driven back with considerable damage to the
ports of Biscay and Galicia. It had, however, sustained its
heaviest loss before it left the Tagus, in the death of the
veteran admiral Santa Cruz, who had been destined to guide it
against England.

This experienced sailor, notwithstanding his diligence and

success, had been unable to keep pace with the impatient ardour
of his master. Philip II. had reproached him with his
dilatoriness, and had said with ungrateful harshness, "You make
an ill return for all my kindness to you." These words cut the
veteran's heart, and proved fatal to Santa Cruz. Overwhelmed
with fatigue and grief, he sickened and died. Philip II. had
replaced him by Alonzo Perez de Gusman, Duke of Medina Sidonia,
one of the most powerful of the Spanish grandees, but wholly
unqualified to command such an expedition. He had, however, as
his lieutenants, two sea men of proved skill and bravery, Juan de
Martinez Recalde of Biscay, and Miguel Orquendo of Guipuzcoa.

The report of the storm which had beaten back the Armada reached
England with much exaggeration, and it was supposed by some of
the queen's counsellors that the invasion would now be deferred
to another year. But Lord Howard of Effingham, the lord high-
admiral of the English fleet, judged more wisely that the danger
was not yet passed, and, as already mentioned, had the moral
courage to refuse to dismantle his principal ships, though he
received orders to that effect. But it was not Howard's design
to keep the English fleet in costly inaction, and to wait
patiently in our own harbours, till the Spaniards had recruited
their strength, and sailed forth again to attack us. The English
seamen of that age (like their successors) loved to strike better
than to parry, though, when emergency required, they could be
patient and cautious in their bravery. It was resolved to
proceed to Spain, to learn the enemy's real condition, and to
deal him any blow for which there might be opportunity. In this
bold policy we may well believe him to have been eagerly seconded
by those who commanded under him. Howard and Drake sailed
accordingly to Corunna, hoping to surprise and attack some part
of the Armada in that harbour; but when near the coast of Spain,
the north wind, which had blown up to that time, veered suddenly
to the south; and fearing that the Spaniards might put to sea and
pass him unobserved, Howard returned to the entrance of the
Channel, where he cruised for some time on the look-out for the
enemy. In part of a letter written by him at this period, he
speaks of the difficulty of guarding so large a breadth of sea--a
difficulty that ought not to be forgotten when modern schemes of
defence against hostile fleets from the south are discussed. "I
myself," he wrote, "do lie in the midst of the Channel, with the
greatest force; Sir Francis Drake hath twenty ships, and four or
five pinnaces, which lie towards Ushant; and Mr. Hawkins, with as
many more, lieth towards Scilly. Thus we are fain to do, or else
with this wind they might pass us by, and we never the wiser.
The SLEEVE is another manner of thing than it was taken for: we
find it by experience and daily observation to be 100 miles over:
a large room for me to look unto!" But after some time further
reports that the Spaniards were inactive in their harbour, where
they were suffering severely from sickness, caused Howard also to
relax in his vigilance; and he returned to Plymouth with the
greater part of his fleet.

On the 12th of July, the Armada having completely refitted,

sailed again for the Channel, and reached it without obstruction
or observation by the English.

The design of the Spaniards was, that the Armada should give
them, at least for a time, the command of the sea, and that it
should join the squadron which Parma had collected, off Calais.
Then, escorted by an overpowering naval force, Parma and his army
were to embark in their flotilla, and cross the sea to England
where they were to be landed, together with the troops which the
Armada brought from the ports of Spain. The scheme was not
dissimilar to one formed against England a little more than two
centuries afterwards.

As Napoleon, in 1805, waited with his army and flotilla at

Boulogne, looking for Villeneuve to drive away the English
cruisers, and secure him a passage across the Channel, so Parma,
in 1588, waited for Medina Sidonia to drive away the Dutch and
English squadrons that watched his flotilla, and to enable his
veterans to cross the sea to the land that they were to conquer.
Thanks to Providence, in each case England's enemy waited in
vain!

Although the numbers of sail which the queen's government, and

the patriotic zeal of volunteers, had collected for the defence
of England exceeded the number of sail in the Spanish fleet, the
English ships were, collectively, far inferior in size to their
adversaries; their aggregate tonnage being less by half than that
of the enemy. In the number of guns, and weight of metal, the
disproportion was still greater. The English admiral was also
obliged to subdivide his force; and Lord Henry Seymour, with
forty of the best Dutch and English ships, was employed in
blockading the hostile ports in Flanders, and in preventing the
Prince of Parma from coming out of Dunkirk.

The orders of King Philip to the Duke de Medina Sidonia were,

that he should, on entering the Channel, keep near the French
coast, and, if attacked by the English ships, avoid an action,
and steer on to Calais roads, where the Prince of Parma's
squadron was to join him. The hope of surprising and destroying
the English fleet in Plymouth, led the Spanish admiral to deviate
from these orders, and to stand across to the English shore; but,
on finding that Lord Howard was coming out to meet him, he
resumed the original plan, and determined to bend his way
steadily towards Calais and Dunkirk, and to keep merely on the
defensive against such squadrons of the English as might come up
with him.

It was on Saturday, the 20th of July, that Lord Effingham came in

sight of his formidable adversaries. The Armada was drawn up in
form of a crescent, which from horn to horn measured some seven
miles. There was a south-west wind; and before it the vast
vessels sailed slowly on. The English let them pass by; and
then, following in the rear, commenced an attack on them. A
running fight now took place, in which some of the best ships of
the Spaniards were captured; many more received heavy damage;
while the English vessels, which took care not to close with
their huge antagonists, but availed themselves of their superior
celerity in tacking and manoeuvring, suffered little comparative
loss. Each day added not only to the spirit, but to the number
of Effingham's force. Raleigh, Oxford, Cumberland, and Sheffield
joined him; and "the gentlemen of England hired ships from all
parts at their own charge, and with one accord came flocking
thither as to a set field, where glory was to be attained, and
faithful service performed unto their prince and their country."

Raleigh justly praises the English admiral for his skilful

tactics. He says, [Historie of the World, p. 791.] "Certainly,
he that will happily perform a fight at sea, must be skillful in
making choice of vessels to fight in; he must believe that there
is more belonging to a good man-of-war, upon the waters, than
great daring; and must know that there is a great deal of
difference between fighting loose or at large and grappling. The
guns of a slow ship pierce as well, and make as great holes, as
those in a swift. To clap ships together, without consideration,
belongs rather to a madman than to a man of war; for by such an
ignorant bravery was Peter Strossie lost at the Azores, when he
fought against the Marquis of Santa Cruza. In like sort had the
Lord Charles Howard, admiral of England, been lost in the year
1588, if he had not been better advised, than a great many
malignant fools were, that found fault with his demeanour. The
Spaniards had an army aboard them, and he had none; they had more
ships than he had, and of higher building and charging; so that,
had he entangled himself with those great and powerful vessels,
he had greatly endangered this kingdom of England. For, twenty
men upon the defences are equal to a hundred that board and
enter; whereas then, contrariwise, the Spaniards had a hundred,
for twenty of ours, to defend themselves withall. But our
admiral knew his advantage, and held it: which had he not done,
he had not been worthy to have held his head."

The Spanish admiral also showed great judgment and firmness in

following the line of conduct that had been traced out for him;
and on the 27th of July he brought his fleet unbroken, though
sorely distressed, to anchor in Calais roads. But the King of
Spain, had calculated ill the number and activity of the English
and Dutch fleets; as the old historian expresses it, "It seemeth
that the Duke of Parma and the Spaniards grounded upon a vain and
presumptuous expectation, that all the ships of England and of
the Low Countreys would at the first sight of the Spanish and
Dunkerk navie have betaken themselves to flight, yeelding them
sea-room, and endeavouring only to defend themselves, their
havens, and sea-coasts from invasion. Wherefore their intent and
purpose was, that the Duke of Parma, in his small and flat-
bottomed ships should, as it were, under the shadow and wing of
the Spanish fleet, convey over all his troupes, armour, and
warlike provisions, and with their forces so united, should
invade England; or, while the English fleet were busied in fight
against the Spanish, should enter upon any part of the coast
which he thought to be most convenient. Which invasion (as the
captives afterwards confessed) the Duke of Parma thought first to
have attempted by the river of Thames; upon the banks whereof,
having at the first arrivall landed twenty or thirty thousand of
his principall souldiers, he supposed that he might easily have
wonne the citie of London; both because his small shippes should
have followed and assisted his land-forces, and also for that the
citie itselfe was but meanely fortified and easie to overcome, by
reason of the citizens' delicacie and discontinuance from the
warres, who, with continuall and constant labour, might be
vanquished, if they yielded not at the first assault."
[Hakluyt's Voyages, vol. i. 601.]

But the English and Dutch found ships and mariners enough to keep
the Armada itself in check, and at the same time to block up
Parma's flotilla. The greater part of Seymour's squadron left
its cruising ground off Dunkirk to join the English admiral off
Calais; but the Dutch manned about five-and-thirty sail of good
ships, with a strong force of soldiers on board, all well
seasoned to the sea-service, and with these they blockaded the
Flemish ports that were in Parma's power. Still it was resolved
by the Spanish admiral and the prince to endeavour to effect a
junction, which the English seamen were equally resolute to
prevent: and bolder measures on our side now became necessary.

The Armada lay off Calais, with its largest ships ranged outside,
"like strong castles fearing no assault; the lesser placed in the
middle ward." The English admiral could not attack them in their
position without great disadvantage, but on the night of the
29th he sent eight fire-ships among them, with almost equal
effect to that of the fire-ships which the Greeks so often
employed against the Turkish fleets in their late war of
independence. The Spaniards cut their cables and put to sea in
confusion. One of the largest galeasses ran foul of another
vessel and was stranded. The rest of the fleet was scattered
about on the Flemish coast, and when the morning broke, it was
with difficulty and delay that they obeyed their admiral's signal
to range themselves round him near Gravelines. Now was the
golden opportunity for the English to assail them, and prevent
them from ever letting loose Parma's flotilla against England;
and nobly was that opportunity used. Drake and Fenner were the
first English captains who attacked the unwieldy leviathans:
then came Fenton, Southwell, Burton, Cross, Raynor, and then the
lord admiral, with Lord Thomas Howard and Lord Sheffield. The
Spaniards only thought of forming and keeping close together, and
were driven by the English past Dunkirk, and far away from the
Prince of Parma, who in watching their defeat from the coast,
must, as Drake expressed it, have chafed like a bear robbed of
her whelps. This was indeed the last and the decisive battle
between the two fleets. It is, perhaps, best described in the
very words of the contemporary writer as we may read them in
Hakluyt. [Vol. i. p. 602.]

"Upon the 29th of July in the morning, the Spanish fleet after
the forsayd tumult, having arranged themselves againe into order,
were, within sight of Greveling, most bravely and furiously
encountered by the English; where they once again got the wind of
the Spaniards; who suffered themselves to be deprived of the
commodity of the place in Calais road, and of the advantage of
the wind neer unto Dunkerk, rather than they would change their
array or separate their forces now conjoyned and united together,
standing only upon their defence.

"And howbeit there were many excellent and warlike ships in the
English fleet, yet scarce were there 22 or 23 among them all,
which matched 90 of the Spanish ships in the bigness, or could
conveniently assault them. Wherefore the English ships using
their prerogative of nimble steerage, whereby they could turn and
wield themselves with the wind which way they listed, came often
times very near upon the Spaniards, and charged them so sore,
that now and then they were but a pike's length asunder: and so
continually giving them one broadside after another, they
discharged all their shot both great and small upon them,
spending one whole day from morning till night in that violent
kind of conflict, untill such time as powder and bullets failed
them. In regard of which want they thought it convenient not to
pursue the Spaniards any longer, because they had many great
vantages of the English, namely, for the extraordinary bigness of
their ships, and also for that they were so neerley conjoyned,
and kept together in so good array, that they could by no meanes
be fought withall one to one. The English thought, therefore,
that they had right well acquitted themselves, in chasing the
Spaniards first from Caleis, and then from Dunkerk, and by that
meanes to have hindered them from joyning with the Duke of Parma
his forces, and getting the wind of them, to have driven them
from their own coasts.

"The Spaniards that day sustained great loss and damage, having
many of their shippes shot thorow and thorow, and they discharged
likewise great store of ordinance against the English; who,
indeed, sustained some hindrance, but not comparable to the
Spaniard's loss: for they lost not any one ship or person of
account, for very diligent inquisition being made, the English
men all that time wherein the Spanish navy sayled upon their
seas, are not found to have wanted aboue one hundred of their
people: albeit Sir Francis Drake's ship was pierced with shot
above forty times, and his very cabben was twice shot thorow, and
about the conclusion of the fight, the bed of a certaine
gentleman, lying weary thereupon, was taken quite from under him
with the force of a bullet. Likewise, as the Earle of
Northumberland and Sir Charles Blunt were at dinner upon a time,
the bullet of a demy-culverin brake thorow the middest of their
cabben, touched their feet, and strooke downe two of the standers
by, with many such accidents befalling the English shippes, which
it were tedious to rehearse."

It reflects little credit on the English Government that the

English fleet was so deficiently supplied with ammunition, as to
be unable to complete the destruction of the invaders. But
enough was done to ensure it. Many of the largest Spanish ships
were sunk or captured in the action of this day. And at length
the Spanish admiral, despairing of success, fled northward with a
southerly wind, in the hope of rounding Scotland, and so
returning to Spain without a farther encounter with the English
fleet. Lord Effingham left a squadron to continue the blockade
of the Prince of Parma's armament; but that wise general soon
withdrew his troops to more promising fields of action.
Meanwhile the lord-admiral himself and Drake chased the vincible
Armada, as it was now termed, for some distance northward; and
then, when it seemed to bend away from the Scotch coast towards
Norway, it was thought best, in the words of Drake, "to leave
them to those boisterous and uncouth northern seas."

The sufferings and losses which the unhappy Spaniards sustained

in their flight round Scotland and Ireland, are well known. Of
their whole Armada only fifty-three shattered vessels brought
back their beaten and wasted crews to the Spanish coast which
they had quitted in such pageantry and pride.

Some passages from the writings of those who took part in the
struggle, have been already quoted; and the most spirited
description of the defeat of the Armada which ever was penned,
may perhaps be taken from the letter which our brave vice-admiral
Drake wrote in answer to some mendacious stories by which the
Spaniards strove to hide their shame. Thus does he describe the
scenes in which he played so important a part: [See Strypo, and
the notes to the Life of Drake. in the "Biographia
Britannica."]

"They were not ashamed to publish, in sundry languages in print,

great victories in words, which they pretended to have obtained
against this realm, and spread the same in a most false sort over
all parts of France, Italy, and elsewhere; when, shortly
afterwards, it was happily manifested in very deed to all
nations, how their navy, which they termed invincible, consisting
of one hundred and forty sail of ships, not only of their own
kingdom, but strengthened with the greatest argosies, Portugal
carracks, Florentines, and large hulks of other countries, were
by thirty of her majesty's own ships of war, and a few of our own
merchants, by the wise, valiant, and advantageous conduct of the
Lord Charles Howard, high-admiral of England, beaten and shuffled
together even from the Lizard in Cornwall, first to Portland,
when they shamefully left Don Pedro de Valdez with his mighty
ship; from Portland to Calais, where they lost Hugh de Moncado,
with the galleys of which he was captain; and from Calais driven
with squibs from their anchors, were chased out of the sight of
England, round about Scotland and Ireland. Where, for the
sympathy of their religion, hoping to find succour and
assistance, a great part of them were crushed against the rocks,
and those others that landed, being very many in number, were,
notwithstanding, broken, slain, and taken; and so sent from
village to village, coupled in halters, to be shipped into
England, where her majesty, of her princely and invincible
disposition, disdaining to put them to death, and scorning either
to retain or to entertain them, they were all sent back again to
their countries, to witness and recount the worthy achievement of
their invincible and dreadful navy. Of which the number of
soldiers, the fearful burthen of their ships, the commanders'
names of every squadron, with all others, their magazines of
provision were put in print, as an army and navy irresistible and
disdaining prevention: with all which their great and terrible
ostentation, they did not in all their sailing round about
England so much as sink or take one ship, bark, pinnace, or
cockboat of ours, or even burn so much as one sheep-cote on this
land."
SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS BETWEEN THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA, A.D.
1588; AND THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM, A.D. 1704.

A.D. 1594. Henry IV. of France conforms to the Roman Catholic

Church, and ends the civil wars that had long desolated France.

1598. Philip II. of Spain dies, leaving a ruined navy and an

exhausted kingdom.

1603. Death of Queen Elizabeth. The Scotch dynasty of the

Stuarts succeeds to the throne of England.

1619. Commencement of the Thirty Years' War in Germany.

1624-1642. Cardinal Richelieu is minister of France. He breaks

the power of the nobility, reduces the Huguenots to complete
subjection; and by aiding the Protestant German princes in the
latter part of the Thirty Years' War, he humiliates France's
ancient rival, Austria.

1630. Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden, marches into Germany to

the assistance of the Protestants, who ware nearly crushed by the
Austrian armies. He gains several great victories, and, after
his death, Sweden, under his statesmen and generals, continues to
take a leading part in the war.

1640. Portugal throws off the Spanish yoke: and the House of
Braganza begins to reign.

1642. Commencement of the civil war in England between Charles

I. and his parliament.

1648. The Thirty Years' War in Germany ended by the treaty of

Westphalia.

1653. Oliver Cromwell lord-protector of England.

1660. Restoration of the Stuarts to the English throne.

1661. Louis XIV. takes the administration of affairs in France

into his own hands.

1667-1668. Louis XVI. makes war in Spain, and conquers a large

part of the Spanish Netherlands.

1672. Louis makes war upon Holland, and almost overpowers it,
Charles II. of England is his pensioner, and England helps the
French in their attacks upon Holland until 1674. Heroic
resistance of the Dutch under the Prince of Orange.

1674. Louis conquers Franche-Comte.

1679. Peace of Nimeguen.

1681. Louis invades and occupies Alsace.

1682. Accession of Peter the Great to the throne of Russia.

1685. Louis commences a merciless persecution of his Protestant
subjects.

1688. The glorious Revolution in England. Expulsion of James

II. William of Orange is made King of England. James takes
refuge at the French court, and Louis undertakes to restore him.
General war in the west of Europe.

1691. Treaty of Ryswick. Charles XII. becomes King of Sweden.

1700. Charles II. of Spain dies, having bequeathed his dominions

to Philip of Anjou, Louis XIV.'s grandson. Defeat of the
Russians at Narva, by Charles XII.

1701. William III. forms a "Grand Alliance" of Austria, the

Empire, the United Provinces, England, and other powers, against
France.

1702. King William dies; but his successor, Queen Anne, adheres
to the Grand Alliance, and war is proclaimed against France.

CHAPTER XI.

THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM, 1704.

"The decisive blow struck at Blenheim resounded through every

part of Europe: it at once destroyed the vast fabric of power
which it had taken Louis XIV., aided by the talents of Turenne,
and the genius of Vauban, so long to construct."--ALISON.

Though more slowly moulded and less imposingly vast than the
empire of Napoleon, the power which Louis XIV. had acquired and
was acquiring at the commencement of the eighteenth century, was
almost equally menacing to the general liberties of Europe. If
tested by the amount of permanent aggrandisement which each
procured for France, the ambition of the royal Bourbon was more
successful than were the enterprises of the imperial Corsican.
All the provinces that Bonaparte conquered, were rent again from
France within twenty years from the date when the very earliest
of them was acquired. France is not stronger by a single city or
a single acre for all the devastating wars of the Consulate and
the Empire. But she still possesses Franche-Comte, Alsace, and
part of Flanders. She has still the extended boundaries which
Louis XIV. gave her. And the royal Spanish marriages, a few
years ago, proved clearly how enduring has been the political
influence which the arts and arms of France's "Grand Monarque"
obtained for her southward of the Pyrenees.

When Louis XIV. took the reins of government into his own hands,
after the death of Cardinal Mazarin, there was a union of ability
with opportunity, such as France had not seen since the days of
Charlemagne. Moreover, Louis's career was no brief one. For
upwards of forty years, for a period nearly equal to the duration
of Charlemagne's reign, Louis steadily followed an aggressive and
a generally successful policy. He passed a long youth and
manhood of triumph, before the military genius of Marlborough
made him acquainted with humiliation and defeat. The great
Bourbon lived too long. He should not have outstayed our two
English kings--one his dependent, James II., the other his
antagonist, William III. Had he died in the year within which
they died, his reign would be cited as unequalled in the French
annals for its prosperity. But he lived on to see his armies
beaten, his cities captured, and his kingdom wasted by disastrous
war. It is as if Charlemagne had survived to be defeated by the
Northmen, and to witness the misery and shame that actually fell
to the lot of his descendants.

Still, Louis XIV. had forty years of success; and from the
permanence of their fruits we may judge what the results would
have been if the last fifteen years of his reign had been equally
fortunate. Had it not been for Blenheim, all Europe might at
this day suffer under the effect of French conquests resembling
those of Alexander in extent, and those of the Romans in
durability.

When Louis XIV. began to govern, he found all the materials for a
strong government ready to his hand. Richelieu had completely
tamed the turbulent spirit of the French nobility, and had
subverted the "imperium in imperio" of the Huguenots. The
faction of the Frondeurs in Mazarin's time had had the effect of
making the Parisian parliament utterly hateful and contemptible
in the eyes of the nation. The assemblies of the States-General
were obsolete. The royal authority alone remained. The King was
the State. Louis knew his position. He fearlessly avowed it,
and he fearlessly acted up to it. ["Quand Louis XIV. dit,
'L'etat, c'est moi:' il n'y eut dans cette parole ni enflure, ni
vanterie, mais la simple enonciation d'un fait."--MICHELET,
HISTOIRE MODERNE vol. ii. p. 106.]

Not only was his government a strong one, but the country which
he governed was strong: strong in its geographical situation, in
the compactness of its territory, in the number and martial
spirit of its inhabitants, and in their complete and undivided
nationality. Louis had neither a Hungary nor an Ireland in his
dominions. and it was not till late in his reign, when old age
had made his bigotry more gloomy, and had given fanaticism the
mastery over prudence, that his persecuting intolerance caused
the civil war in the Cevennes.

Like Napoleon in after-times, Louis XIV. saw clearly that the

great wants of France were "ships, colonies, and commerce." But
Louis did more than see these wants: by the aid of his great
minister, Colbert, he supplied them. One of the surest proofs of
the genius of Louis was his skill in finding out genius in
others, and his promptness in calling it into action. Under him,
Louvois organized, Turenne, Conde, Villars and Berwick, led the
armies of France; and Vauban fortified her frontiers. Throughout
his reign, French diplomacy was marked by skilfulness and
activity, and also by comprehensive far-sightedness, such as the
representatives of no other nation possessed. Guizot's testimony
to the vigour that was displayed through every branch of Louis
XIV.'s government, and to the extent to which France at present
is indebted to him, is remarkable. He says, that, "taking the
public services of every kind, the finances, the departments of
roads and public works, the military administration, and all the
establishments which belong to every branch of administration,
there is not one that will not be found to have had its origin,
its development, or its greatest perfection, under the reign of
Louis XIV." [History of European Civilization, Lecture 13.] And
he points out to us, that "the government of Louis XIV. was the
first that presented itself to the eyes of Europe as a power
acting upon sure grounds, which had not to dispute its existence
with inward enemies, but was at ease as to its territory and its
people, and solely occupied with the task of administering
government, properly so called. All the European governments had
been previously thrown into incessant wars, which deprived them
of all security as well as of all leisure, or so harassed by
internal parties or antagonists, that their time was passed in
fighting for existence. The government of Louis XIV. was the
first to appear as a busy thriving administration of affairs, as
a power at once definitive and progressive, which was not afraid
to innovate, because it could reckon securely on the future.
There have been in fact very few governments equally innovating.
Compare it with a government of the same nature, the unmixed
monarchy of Philip II. in Spain; it was more absolute than that
of Louis XIV., and yet it was far less regular and tranquil. How
did Philip II. succeed in establishing absolute power in Spain?
By stifling all activity in the country, opposing himself to
every species of amelioration, and rendering the state of Spain
completely stagnant. The government of Louis XIV., on the
contrary, exhibited alacrity for all sorts of innovations, and
showed itself favourable to the progress of letters, arts, wealth
in short, of civilization. This was the veritable cause of its
preponderance in Europe, which arose to such a pitch, that it
became the type of a government not only to sovereigns, but also
to nations, during the seventeenth century."

While France was thus strong and united in herself, and ruled by
a martial, an ambitious, and (with all his faults) an enlightened
and high-spirited sovereign, what European power was there fit to
cope with her, or keep her in check?

"As to Germany, the ambitious projects of the German branch of

Austria had been entirely defeated, the peace of the empire had
been restored, and almost a new constitution formed, or an old
revived, by the treaties of Westphalia; NAY, THE IMPERIAL EAGLE
WAS NOT ONLY FALLEN, BUT HER WINGS WERE CLIPPED." [Bolingbroke,
vol. ii. p. 378. Lord Bolingbroke's "Letters on the Use of
History," and his " Sketch of the History and State of Europe,"
abound with remarks on Louis XIV. and his contemporaries, of
which the substance is as sound as the style is beautiful.
Unfortunately, like all his other works, they contain also a
large proportion of sophistry and misrepresentation. The best
test to use before we adopt any opinion or assertion of
Bolingbroke's, is to consider whether in writing it he was
thinking either of Sir Robert Walpole or of Revealed Religion.
When either of these objects of his hatred was before his mind,
he scrupled at no artifice or exaggeration that; might serve the
purpose of his malignity. On most other occasions he may be
followed with advantage, as he always may be read with pleasure.]
As to Spain, the Spanish branch of the Austrian house had sunk
equally low. Philip II. left his successors a ruined monarchy.
He left them something worse; he left them his example and his
principles of government, founded in ambition, in pride, in
ignorance, in bigotry, and all the pedantry of state."
[Bolingbroke, vol. ii. p. 378.]

It is not, therefore, to be wondered at, that France, in the

first war of Louis XIV., despised the opposition of both branches
of the once predominant house of Austria. Indeed, in Germany the
French king acquired allies among the princes of the Empire
against the emperor himself. He had a still stronger support in
Austria's misgovernment of her own subjects. The words of
Bolingbroke on this are remarkable, and some of them sound as if
written within the last three years. Bolingbroke says, "It was
not merely the want of cordial co-operation among the princes of
the Empire that disabled the emperor from acting with vigour in
the cause of his family then, nor that has rendered the house of
Austria a dead weight upon all her allies ever since. Bigotry,
and its inseparable companion, cruelty, as well as the tyranny
and avarice of the court of Vienna, created in those days, and
has maintained in ours, almost a perpetual diversion of the
imperial arms from all effectual opposition to France. I MEAN TO
SPEAK OF THE TROUBLES IN HUNGARY. WHATEVER THEY BECAME IN THEIR
PROGRESS, THEY WERE CAUSED ORIGINALLY BY THE USERPATIONS AND
PERSECUTIONS OF THE EMPEROR; AND WHEN THE HUNGARIANS WERE CALLED
REBELS FIRST, THEY WERE CALLED SO FOR NO OTHER REASON THAN THIS,
THAT THEY WOULD NOT BE SLAVES. The dominion of the emperor being
less supportable than that of the Turks, this unhappy people
opened a door to the latter to infest the empire, instead of
making their country, what it had been before, a barrier against
the Ottoman power. France became a sure though secret ally of
the Turks, as well as the Hungarians, and has found her account
in it, by keeping the emperor in perpetual alarms on that side,
while she has ravaged the Empire and the Low Countries on the
other." [Bolingbroke, vol. ii. p. 397.]

If, after having seen the imbecility of Germany and Spain against
the France of Louis XIV., we turn to the two only remaining
European powers of any importance at that time, to England and to
Holland, we find the position of our own country as to European
politics, from 1660 to 1688, most painful to contemplate. From
1660 to 1688, "England, by the return of the Stuarts, was reduced
to a nullity." The words are Michelet's, [Histoire Moderne, vol.
ii. p.106.] and though severe they are just. They are, in fact,
not severe enough: for when England, under her restored dynasty
of the Stuarts, did take any part in European politics, her
conduct, or rather her king's conduct, was almost invariably
wicked and dishonourable.

Bolingbroke rightly says that, previous to the Revolution of

1688, during the whole progress that Louis XIV. made in obtaining
such exorbitant power, as gave him well-grounded hopes of
acquiring at last to his family the Spanish monarchy, England had
been either an idle spectator of what passed on the continent, or
a faint and uncertain ally against France, or a warm and sure
ally on her side, or a partial mediator between her and the
powers confederated together in their common defence. But though
the court of England submitted to abet the usurpations of France,
and the King of England stooped to be her pensioner, the crime
was not national. On the contrary, the nation cried out loudly
against it even whilst it was being committed." [Bolingbroke,
vol. ii p. 418.]

Holland alone, of all the European powers, opposed from the very
beginning a steady and uniform resistance to the ambition and
power of the French king. It was against Holland that the
fiercest attacks of France were made, and though often apparently
on the eve of complete success, they were always ultimately
baffled by the stubborn bravery of the Dutch, and the heroism of
their leader, William of Orange. When he became king of England,
the power of this country was thrown decidedly into the scale
against France; but though the contest was thus rendered less
unequal, though William acted throughout "with invincible
firmness, like a patriot and a hero," [Bolingbroke, vol, ii,
p.404.] France had the general superiority in every war and in
every treaty: and the commencement of the eighteenth century
found the last league against her dissolved, all the forces of
the confederates against her dispersed, and many disbanded; while
France continued armed, with her veteran forces by sea and land
increased, and held in readiness to act on all sides, whenever
the opportunity should arise for seizing on the great prizes
which, from the very beginning of his reign, had never been lost
sight of by her king.

This is not the place for any narrative of the first essay which
Louis XIV. made of his power in the war of 1667; of his rapid
conquest of Flanders and Franche-Comte; of the treaty of Aix-la-
Chapelle, which "was nothing more than a composition between the
bully and the bullied;" [Ibid p. 399.] of his attack on Holland
in 1672; of the districts and barrier-towns of the Spanish
Netherlands which were secured to him by the treaty of Nimeguen
in 1678; of how, after this treaty, he "continued to vex both
Spain and the Empire, and to extend his conquests in the Low
Countries and on the Rhine, both by the pen and the sword; how he
took Luxembourg by force, stole Strasburg, and bought Casal;" of
how the league of Augsburg was formed against him in 1686, and
the election of William of Orange to the English throne in 1688,
gave a new spirit to the opposition which France encountered; of
the long and chequered war that followed, in which the French
armies were generally victorious on the continent, though his
fleet was beaten at La Hogue, and his dependent, James II,, was
defeated at the Boyne, or of the treaty of Ryswick, which left
France in possession of Roussillon, Artois, and Strasburg, which
gave Europe no security against her claims on the Spanish
succession, and which Louis regarded as a mere truce, to gain
breathing-time before a more decisive struggle. It must be borne
in mind that the ambition of Louis in these wars was twofold. It
had its immediate and its ulterior objects. Its immediate object
was to conquer and annex to France the neighbouring provinces and
towns that were most convenient for the increase of her strength;
but the ulterior object of Louis, from the time of his marriage
to the Spanish Infanta in 1659, was to acquire for the house of
Bourbon the whole empire of Spain. A formal renunciation of all
right to the Spanish succession had been made at the time of the
marriage; but such renunciations were never of any practical
effect, and many casuists and jurists of the age even held them
to be intrinsically void, as time passed on, and the prospect of
Charles II. of Spain dying without lineal heirs became more and
more certain, so did the claims of the house of Bourbon to the
Spanish crown after his death become matters of urgent interest
to French ambition on the one hand, and to the other powers of
Europe on the other. At length the unhappy King of Spain died.
By his will he appointed Philip, Duke of Anjou, one of Louis
XIV.'s grandsons, to succeed him on the throne of Spain, and
strictly forbade any partition of his dominions. Louis well knew
that a general European war would follow if he accepted for his
house the crown thus bequeathed. But he had been preparing for
this crisis throughout his reign. He sent his grandson into
Spain as King Philip V. of that country, addressing to him on his
departure the memorable words, "There are no longer any
Pyrenees."

The empire, which now received the grandson of Louis as its king,
comprised, besides Spain itself, the strongest part of the
Netherlands, Sardinia, Sicily, Naples, the principality of Milan,
and other possessions in Italy, the Philippines and Marilla
Islands in Asia, and, in the New World, besides California and
Florida the greatest part of Central and of Southern America.
Philip was well received in Madrid, where he was crowned as King
Philip V. in the beginning of 1701. The distant portions of his
empire sent in their adhesion; and the house of Bourbon, either
by its French or Spanish troops, now had occupation both of the
kingdom of Francis I., and of the fairest and amplest portion of
the empire of the great rival of Francis, Charles V.

Loud was the wrath of Austria, whose princes were the rival
claimants of the Bourbons for the empire of Spain. The
indignation of William III., though not equally loud, was far
more deep and energetic. By his exertions a league against the
house of Bourbon was formed between England, Holland, and the
Austrian Emperor, which was subsequently joined by the kings of
Portugal and Prussia, by the Duke of Savoy, and by Denmark.
Indeed, the alarm throughout Europe was now general and urgent.
It was clear that Louis aimed a consolidating France and the
Spanish dominions into one preponderating empire. At the moment
when Philip was departing to take possession of Spain, Louis had
issued letters-patent in his favour to the effect of preserving
his rights to the throne of France. And Louis had himself
obtained possession of the important frontier of the Spanish
Netherlands, with its numerous fortified cities, which were given
up to his troops under pretence of securing them for the young
King of Spain. Whether the formal union of the two crowns was
likely to take place speedily or not, it was evident that the
resources of the whole Spanish monarchy were now virtually at the
French king's disposal.

The peril that seemed to menace the empire, England, Holland, and
the other independent powers, is well summed up by Alison:
"Spain had threatened the liberties of Europe in the end of the
sixteenth century, France had all but overthrown them in the
close of the seventeenth. What hope was there of their being
able to make head against them both, united under such a monarch
as Louis XIV.?" [Military History of the Duke of Marlborough, p.
32.]

Our knowledge of the decayed state into which the Spanish power
had fallen, ought not to make us regard their alarms as
chimerical. Spain possessed enormous resources, and her strength
was capable of being regenerated by a vigorous ruler. We should
remember what Alberoni effected, even after the close of the War
of Succession. By what that minister did in a few years, we may
judge what Louis XIV. would have done in restoring the maritime
and military power of that great country which nature has so
largely gifted, and which man's misgovernment has so debased.

The death of King William on the 8th of March, 1702, at first

seemed likely to paralyse the league against France, for
"notwithstanding the ill-success with which he made war
generally, he was looked upon as the sole centre of union that
could keep together the great confederacy then forming; and how
much the French feared from his life, had appeared a few years
before, in the extravagant and indecent joy they expressed on a
false report of his death. A short time showed how vain the
fears of some, and the hopes of others were." [Bolingbroke,
vol. ii. p. 445.] Queen Anne, within three days after her
accession, went down to the House of Lords, and there declared
her resolution to support the measures planned by her
predecessor, who had been "the great support, not only of these
kingdoms, but of all Europe." Anne was married to Prince George
of Denmark, and by her accession to the English throne the
confederacy against Louis obtained the aid of the troops of
Denmark; but Anne's strong attachment to one of her female
friends led to far more important advantages to the anti-Gallican
confederacy, than the acquisition of many armies, for it gave
them MARLBOROUGH as their Captain-General.

There are few successful commanders on whom Fame has shone so

unwillingly as upon John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, Prince
of the Holy Roman Empire,--victor of Blenheim, Ramilies,
Oudenarde, and Malplaquet,--captor of Liege, Bonn, Limburg,
Landau, Ghent, Bruges, Antwerp, Oudenarde, Ostend, Menin,
Dendermonde, Ath, Lille, Tourney, Mons, Douay, Aire, Bethune, and
Bouchain; who never fought a battle that he did not win, and
never besieged a place that he did not take. Marlborough's own
private character is the cause of this. Military glory may, and
too often does, dazzle both contemporaries and posterity, until
the crimes as well as the vices of heroes are forgotten. But
even a few stains of personal meanness will dim a soldier's
reputation irreparably; and Marlborough's faults were of a
peculiarly base and mean order. Our feelings towards historical
personages are in this respect like our feelings towards private
acquaintances. There are actions of that shabby nature, that,
however much they may be outweighed by a man's good deeds on a
general estimate of his character, we never can feel any cordial
liking for the person who has been guilty of them. Thus, with
respect to the Duke of Marlborough, it goes against our feelings
to admire the man, who owed his first advancement in life to the
court-favour which he and his family acquired through his sister
becoming one of the mistresses of the Duke of York. It is
repulsive to know that Marlborough laid the foundation of his
wealth by being the paid lover of one of the fair and frail
favourites of Charles II. His treachery and ingratitude to his
patron and benefactor, James II., stand out in dark relief, even
in that age of thankless perfidy. He was almost equally disloyal
to his new master, King William; and a more un-English act cannot
be recorded than Godolphin's and Marlborough's betrayal to the
French court in 1694 of the expedition then designed against
Brest, an act of treason which caused some hundreds of English
soldiers and sailors to be helplessly slaughtered on the beach in
Camaret Bay.

It is, however, only in his military career that we have now to

consider him; and there are very few generals, of either ancient
or modern times, whose campaigns will bear a comparison with
those of Marlborough, either for the masterly skill with which
they were planned, or for the bold yet prudent energy with which
each plan was carried into execution. Marlborough had served
while young under Turenne, and had obtained the marked praise of
that great tactician. It would be difficult, indeed, to name a
single quality which a general ought to have, and with which
Marlborough was not eminently gifted. What principally attracted
the notice of contemporaries, was the imperturbable evenness of
his spirit. Voltaire [Siecle de Louis Quatorze.] says of him:--
"He had, to a degree above all other generals of his time, that
calm courage in the midst of tumult, that serenity of soul in
danger, which the English call a COOL HEAD (que les Anglais
appellant COOL HEAD, TETE FROID), and it was perhaps this
quality, the greatest gift of nature for command, which formerly
gave the English so many advantages over the French in the plains
of Cressy, Poictiers, and Agincourt."

King William's knowledge of Marlborough's high abilities, though

he knew his faithlessness equally well, is said to have caused
that sovereign in his last illness to recommend Marlborough to
his successor as the fittest person to command her armies: but
Marlborough's favour with the new queen by means of his wife was
so high, that he was certain of obtaining the highest employment:
and the war against Louis opened to him a glorious theatre for
the display of those military talents, which he had before only
had an opportunity of exercising in a subordinate character, and
on far less conspicuous scenes.

He was not only made captain-general of the English forces at

home and abroad, but such was the authority of England in the
council of the Grand Alliance, and Marlborough was so skilled in
winning golden opinions from all whom he met with, that, on his
reaching the Hague, he was received with transports of joy by the
Dutch, and it was agreed by the heads of that republic, and the
minister of the emperor, that Marlborough should have the chief
command of all the allied armies.

It must indeed, in justice to Marlborough, be borne in mind, that

mere military skill was by no means all that was required of him
in this arduous and invidious station. Had it not been for his
unrivalled patience and sweetness of temper, and his marvellous
ability in discerning the character of those with whom he had to
act, his intuitive perception of those who were to be thoroughly
trusted, and of those who were to be amused with the mere
semblance of respect and confidence,--had not Marlborough
possessed and employed, while at the head of the allied armies,
all the qualifications of a polished courtier and a great
statesman, he never would have led the allied armies to the
Danube. The Confederacy would not have held together for a
single year. His great political adversary, Bolingbroke, does
him ample justice here. Bolingbroke, after referring to the loss
which King William's death seemed to inflict on the cause of the
Allies, observes that, "By his death the Duke of Marlborough was
raised to the head of the army, and, indeed, of the Confederacy;
where he, a new, a private man, a subject, acquired by merit and
by management, a more deciding influence, than high birth,
confirmed authority, and even the crown of Great Britain, had
given to King William. Not only all the parts of that vast
machine, the Grand Alliance, were kept more compact and entire;
but a more rapid and vigorous motion was given to the whole; and
instead of languishing and disastrous campaigns, we saw every
scene of the war full of action. All those wherein he appeared
and many of those wherein he was not then an actor, but abettor,
however, of their action, were crowned with the most triumphant
success.

"I take with pleasure this opportunity of doing justice to that

great man, whose faults I knew, whose virtues I admired; and
whose memory, as the greatest general and as the greatest
minister that our country, or perhaps any other, has produced, I
honour." [Bolingbroke, vol. ii. p. 445.]

War, was formally declared by the allies against France on the

4th of May, 1702. The principal scenes of its operation were, at
first, Flanders, the Upper Rhine, and North Italy. Marlborough
headed the allied troops in Flanders during the first two years
of the war, and took some towns from the enemy, but nothing
decisive occurred. Nor did any actions of importance take place
during this period, between the rival armies in Italy. But in
the centre of that line from north to south, from the mouth of
the Scheldt to the mouth of the Po, along which the war was
carried on, the generals of Louis XIV. acquired advantages in
1703, which threatened one chief member of the Grand Alliance
with utter destruction. France had obtained the important
assistance of Bavaria, as her confederate in the war. The
Elector of this powerful German state made himself master of the
strong fortress of Ulm, and opened a communication with the
French armies on the Upper Rhine. By this junction, the troops
of Louis were enabled to assail the Emperor in the very heart of
Germany. In the autumn of the year 1703, the combined armies of
the Elector and French king completely defeated the Imperialists
in Bavaria; and in the following winter they made themselves
masters of the important cities of Augsburg and Passau.
Meanwhile the French army of the Upper Rhine and Moselle had
beaten the allied armies opposed to them, and taken Treves and
Landau. At the same time the discontents in Hungary with Austria
again broke out into open insurrection, so as to distract the
attention, and complete the terror of the Emperor and his council
at Vienna.

Louis XIV. ordered the next campaign to be commenced by his

troops on a scale of grandeur and with a boldness of enterprise,
such as even Napoleon's military schemes have seldom equalled.
On the extreme left of the line of the war, in the Netherlands,
the French armies were to act only on the defensive. The
fortresses in the hands of the French there, were so many and so
strong that no serious impression seemed likely to be made by the
Allies on the French frontier in that quarter during one
campaign; and that one campaign was to give France such triumphs
elsewhere as would (it was hoped) determine the war. Large
detachments were, therefore, to be made from the French force in
Flanders, and they were to be led by Marshal Villeroy to the
Moselle and Upper Rhine. The French army already in the
neighbourhood of those rivers was to march under Marshal Tallard
through the Black Forest, and join the Elector of Bavaria and the
French troops that were already with the Elector under Marshal
Marsin. Meanwhile the French army of Italy was to advance
through the Tyrol into Austria, and the whole forces were to
combine between the Danube and the Inn. A strong body of troops
was to be despatched into Hungary, to assist and organize the
insurgents in that kingdom; and the French grand army of the
Danube was then, in collected and irresistible might, to march
upon Vienna, and dictate terms of peace to the Emperor. High
military genius was shown in the formation of this plan, but it
was met and baffled by a genius higher still.

Marlborough had watched, with the deepest anxiety, the progress

of the French arms on the Rhine and in Bavaria, and he saw the
futility of carrying on a war of posts and sieges in Flanders,
while death-blows to the empire were being dealt on the Danube.
He resolved therefore to let the war in Flanders languish for a
year, while he moved with all the disposable forces that he could
collect to the central scenes of decisive operations. Such a
march was in itself difficult, but Marlborough had, in the first
instance, to overcome the still greater difficulty of obtaining
the consent and cheerful co-operation of the Allies, especially
of the Dutch, whose frontier it was proposed thus to deprive of
the larger part of the force which had hitherto been its
protection. Fortunately, among the many slothful, the many
foolish, the many timid, and the not few treacherous rulers,
statesmen, and generals of different nations with whom he had to
deal, there were two men, eminent both in ability and integrity,
who entered fully into Marlborough's projects, and who, from the
stations which they occupied, were enabled materially to forward
them. One of these was the Dutch statesman Heinsius, who had
been the cordial supporter of King William, and who now, with
equal zeal and good faith, supported Marlborough in the councils
of the Allies; the other was the celebrated general Prince
Eugene, whom the Austrian cabinet had recalled from the Italian
frontier, to take the command of one of the Emperor's armies in
Germany. To these two great men, and a few more, Marlborough
communicated his plan freely and unreservedly; but to the general
councils of his allies he only disclosed part, of his daring
scheme. He proposed to the Dutch that he should march from
Flanders to the Upper Rhine and Moselle, with the British troops
and part of the Foreign auxiliaries, and commence vigorous
operations against the French armies in that quarter, whilst
General Auverquerque, with the Dutch and the remainder of the
auxiliaries, maintained a defensive war in the Netherlands.
Having with difficulty obtained the consent of the Dutch to this
portion of his project, he exercised the same diplomatic zeal,
with the same success, in urging the King of Prussia, and other
princes of the empire, to increase the number of the troops which
they supplied, and to post them in places convenient for his own
intended movements.

Marlborough commenced his celebrated march on the 19th of May.

The army, which he was to lead, had been assembled by his
brother, General Churchill, at Bedburg, not far from Maestricht
on the Meuse: it included sixteen thousand English troops, and
consisted of fifty-one battalions of foot, and ninety-two
squadrons of horse. Marlborough was to collect and join with him
on his march the troops of Prussia, Luneburg, and Hesse,
quartered on the Rhine, and eleven Dutch battalions that were
stationed at Rothweil. [Coxe's Life of Marlborough.] He had
only marched a single day, when the series of interruptions,
complaints, and requisitions from the other leaders of the Allies
began, to which he seemed doomed throughout his enterprise, and
which would have caused its failure in the hands of any one not
gifted with the firmness and the exquisite temper of Marlborough.
One specimen of these annoyances and of Marlborough's mode of
dealing with them may suffice. On his encamping at Kupen, on the
20th, he received an express from Auverquerque pressing him to
halt, because Villeroy, who commanded the French army in
Flanders, had quitted the lines, which he had been occupying, and
crossed the Meuse at Namur with thirty-six battalions and forty-
five squadrons, and was threatening the town of Huys. At the
same time Marlborough received letters from the Margrave of Baden
and Count Wratislaw, who commanded the Imperialist forces at
Stollhoffen near the left bank of the Rhine, stating that Tallard
had made a movement, as if intending to cross the Rhine, and
urging him to hasten his march towards the lines of Stollhoffen.
Marlborough was not diverted by these applications from the
prosecution of his grand design. Conscious that the army of
Villeroy would be too much reduced to undertake offensive
operations, by the detachments which had already been made
towards the Rhine, and those which must follow his own march, he
halted only a day to quiet the alarms of Auverquerque. To
satisfy also the margrave he ordered the troops of Hompesch and
Bulow to draw towards Philipsburg, though with private
injunctions not to proceed beyond a certain distance. He even
exacted a promise to the same effect from Count Wratislaw, who at
this juncture arrived at the camp to attend him during the whole
campaign. [Coxe.]

Marlborough reached the Rhine at Coblentz, where he crossed that

river, and then marched along its right bank to Broubach and
Mentz. His march, though rapid, was admirably conducted, so as
to save the troops from all unnecessary fatigue; ample supplies
of provisions were ready, and the most perfect discipline was
maintained. By degrees Marlborough obtained more reinforcements
from the Dutch and the other confederates, and he also was left
more at liberty by them to follow his own course. Indeed, before
even a blow was struck, his enterprise had paralysed the enemy,
and had materially relieved Austria from the pressure of the war.
Villeroy, with his detachments from the French-Flemish army, was
completely bewildered by Marlborough's movements; and, unable to
divine where it was that the English general meant to strike his
blow, wasted away the early part of the summer between Flanders
and the Moselle without effecting anything. ["Marshal
Villeroy," says Voltaire, "who had wished to follow Marlborough
on his first marches, suddenly lost sight of him altogether, and
only learned where he really was, on hearing of his victory at
Donauwert."--SIECLE DE LOUIS XIV.]

Marshal Tallard, who commanded forty-five thousand men at

Strasburg, and who had been destined by Louis to march early in
the year into Bavaria, thought that Marlborough's march along the
Rhine was preliminary to an attack upon Alsace; and the marshal
therefore kept his forty-five thousand men back in order to
support France in that quarter. Marlborough skilfully encouraged
his apprehensions by causing a bridge to be constructed across
the Rhine at Philipsburg, and by making the Landgrave of Hesse
advance his artillery at Manheim, as if for a siege of Landau.
Meanwhile the Elector of Bavaria and Marshal Marsin, suspecting
that Marlborough's design might be what it really proved to be,
forbore to press upon the Austrians opposed to them, or to send
troops into Hungary; and they kept back so as to secure their
communications with France. Thus, when Marlborough, at the
beginning of June, left the Rhine and marched for the Danube, the
numerous hostile armies were uncombined, and unable to check him.

"With such skill and science had this enterprise been concerted,
that at the very moment when it assumed a specific direction, the
enemy was no longer enabled to render it abortive. As the march
was now to be bent towards the Danube, notice was given for the
Prussians, Palatines, and Hessians, who were stationed on the
Rhine, to order their march so as to join the main body in its
progress. At the same time directions were sent to accelerate
the advance of the Danish auxiliaries, who were marching from the
Netherlands." [Coxe.]

Crossing the river Neckar, Marlborough marched in a south-eastern

direction to Mundelshene, where he had his first personal
interview with Prince Eugene, who was destined to be his
colleague on so many glorious fields. Thence, through a
difficult and dangerous country, Marlborough continued his march
against the Bavarians, whom he encountered on the 2d of July, on
the heights of the Schullenberg near Donauwert. Marlborough
stormed their entrenched camp, crossed the Danube, took several
strong places in Bavaria, and made himself completely master of
the Elector's dominions, except the fortified cities of Munich
and Augsburg. But the Elector's army, though defeated at
Donauwert, was still numerous and strong; and at last Marshal
Tallard, when thoroughly apprised of the real nature of
Marlborough's movements, crossed the Rhine. He was suffered
through the supineness of the German general at Stollhoffen, to
march without loss through the Black Forest, and united his
powerful army at Biberach near Augsburg, with that of the Elector
and the French troops under Marshal Marsin, who had previously
been co-operating with the Bavarians. On the other hand,
Marlborough re-crossed the Danube, and on the 11th of August
united his army with the Imperialist forces under Prince Eugene.
The combined armies occupied a position near Hochstadt, a little
higher up the left bank of the Danube than Donauwert, the scene
of Marlborough's recent victory, and almost exactly on the ground
where Marshal Villars and the Elector had defeated an Austrian
army in the preceding year. The French marshals and the Elector
were now in position a little farther to the east, between
Blenheim and Lutzingen, and with the little stream of the Nebel
between them and the troops of Marlborough and Eugene. The
Gallo-Bavarian army consisted of about sixty thousand men, and
they had sixty-one pieces of artillery. The army of the Allies
was about fifty-six thousand strong, with fifty-two guns." [A
short time before the War of the Succession the musquet and
bayonet had been made the arms of all the French infantry. It
had formerly been usual to mingle pike-men with musqueteers. The
other European nations followed the example of France, and the
weapons used at Blenheim were substantially the same as those
still employed.]

Although the French army of Italy had been unable to penetrate

into Austria, and although the masterly strategy of Marlborough
had hitherto warded off the destruction with which the cause of
the Allies seemed menaced at the beginning of the campaign, the
peril was still most serious. It was absolutely necessary for
Marlborough to attack the enemy, before Villeroy should be roused
into action. There was nothing to stop that general and his army
from marching into Franconia, whence the Allies drew their
principal supplies; and besides thus distressing them, he might,
by marching on and joining his army to those of Tallard and the
Elector, form a mass which would overwhelm the force under
Marlborough and Eugene. On the other hand, the chances of a
battle seemed perilous, and the fatal consequences of a defeat
were certain. The inferiority of the Allies in point of number
was not very great, but still it was not to be disregarded; and
the advantage which the enemy seemed to have in the composition
of their troops was striking. Tallard and Marsin had forty-five
thousand Frenchmen under them, all veterans, and all trained to
act together: the Elector's own troops also were good soldiers.
Marlborough, like Wellington at Waterloo, headed an army, of
which the larger proportion consisted not of English, but of men
of many different nations, and many different languages. He was
also obliged to be the assailant in the action, and thus to
expose his troops to comparatively heavy loss at the commencement
of the battle, while the enemy would fight under the protection
of the villages and lines which they were actively engaged in
strengthening. The consequences of a defeat of the confederated
army must have broken up the Grand Alliance, and realised the
proudest hopes of the French king. Mr. Alison, in his admirable
military history of the Duke of Marlborough, has truly stated the
effects which would have taken place if France had been
successful in the war. And, when the position of the
Confederates at the time when Blenheim was fought is remembered;
when we recollect the exhaustion of Austria, the menacing
insurrection of Hungary, the feuds and jealousies of the German
princes, the strength and activity of the Jacobite party in
England, the imbecility of nearly all the Dutch statesmen of the
time, and the weakness of Holland if deprived of her allies, we
may adopt his words in speculating on what would have ensued, if
France had been victorious in the battle, and "if a power,
animated by the ambition, guided by the fanaticism and directed
by the ability of that of Louis XIV., had gained the ascendancy
in Europe. Beyond all question, a universal despotic dominion
would have been established over the bodies, a cruel spiritual
thraldom over the minds of men. France and Spain united under
Bourbon princes, and in a close family alliance--the empire of
Charlemagne with that of Charles V.--the power which revolted the
edict of Nantes, and perpetrated the massacre of St. Bartholomew,
with that which banished the Moriscoes, and established the
Inquisition, would have proved irresistible, and beyond example
destructive to the best interests of mankind.

"The Protestants might have been driven, like the Pagan heathens
of old by the son of Pepin, beyond the Elbe; the Stuart race, and
with them Romish, ascendancy, might have been re-established in
England; the fire lighted by Latimer and Ridley might have been
extinguished in blood; and the energy breathed by religious
freedom into the Anglo-Saxon race might have expired. The
destinies of the world would have been changed. Europe, instead
of a variety of independent states, whose mutual, hostility kept
alive courage, while their national rivalry stimulated talent,
would have sunk into the slumber attendant on universal dominion.
The colonial empire of England would have withered away and
perished, as that of Spain has done in the grasp of the
Inquisition. The Anglo-Saxon race would have been arrested in
its mission to overspread the earth and subdue it. The
centralised despotism of the Roman empire would have been renewed
on Continental Europe; the chains of Romish tyranny, and with
them the general infidelity of France before the Revolution,
would have extinguished or perverted thought in the British
islands." [Alison's Life of Marlborough, p. 248.]

Marlborough's words at the council of war, when a battle was

resolved on, are remarkable, and they deserve recording. We know
them on the authority of his chaplain, Mr. (afterwards Bishop)
Hare, who accompanied him throughout the campaign, and in whose
journal the biographers of Marlborough have found many of their
best materials. Marborough's words to the officers who
remonstrated with him on the seeming temerity of attacking the
enemy in their position, were--"I know the danger, yet a battle
is absolutely necessary; and I rely on the bravery and discipline
of the troops, which will make amends for our disadvantages." In
the evening orders were issued for a general engagement, and
received by the army with an alacrity which justified his
confidence.

The French and Bavarians were posted behind a little stream

called the Nebel, which runs almost from north to south into the
Danube immediately in front of the village of Blenheim. The
Nebel flows along a little valley, and the French occupied the
rising ground to the west of it. The village of Blenheim was the
extreme right of their position, and the village of Lutzingen,
about three miles north of Blenheim, formed their left. Beyond
Lutzingen are the rugged high grounds of the Godd Berg, and Eich
Berg, on the skirts of which some detachments were posted so as
to secure the Gallo-Bavarian position from being turned on the
left flank. The Danube protected their right flank; and it was
only in front that they could be attacked. The villages of
Blenheim and Lutzingen had been strongly palisadoed and
entrenched. Marshal Tallard, who held the chief command, took
his station at Blenheim: Prince Maximilian the Elector, and
Marshal Marsin commanded on the left. Tallard garrisoned
Blenheim with twenty-six battalions of French infantry, and
twelve squadrons of French cavalry. Marsin and the Elector had
twenty-two battalions of infantry, and thirty-six squadrons of
cavalry in front of the village of Lutzingen. The centre was
occupied by fourteen battalions of infantry, including the
celebrated Irish Brigade. These were posted in the little hamlet
of Oberglau, which lies somewhat nearer to Lutzingen than to
Blenheim. Eighty squadrons of cavalry and seven battalions of
foot were ranged between Oberglau and Blenheim. Thus the French
position was very strong at each extremity, but was comparatively
weak in the centre. Tallard seems to have relied on the swampy
state of the part of the valley that reaches from below Oberglau
to Blenheim, for preventing any serious attack on this part of
his line.

The army of the Allies was formed into two great divisions: the
largest being commanded by the Duke in person, and being destined
to act against Tallard, while Prince Eugene led the other
division, which consisted chiefly of cavalry, and was intended to
oppose the enemy under Marsin and the Elector. As they
approached the enemy, Marlborough's troops formed the left and
the centre, while Eugene's formed the right of the entire army.
Early in the morning of the 13th of August, the Allies left their
own camp and marched towards the enemy. A thick haze covered the
ground, and it was not until the allied right and centre had
advanced nearly within cannon-shot of the enemy that Tallard was
aware of their approach. He made his preparations with what
haste he could, and about eight o'clock a heavy fire of artillery
was opened from the French right on the advancing left wing of
the British. Marlborough ordered up some of his batteries to
reply to it, and while the columns that were to form the allied
left and centre deployed, and took up their proper stations in
the line, a warm cannonade was kept up by the guns on both sides.

The ground which Eugene's columns had to traverse was peculiarly

difficult, especially for the passage of the artillery; and it
was nearly mid-day before he could get his troops into line
opposite to Lutzingen. During this interval, Marlborough ordered
divine service to be performed by the chaplains at the head of
each regiment; and then rode along the lines, and found both
officers and men in the highest spirits, and waiting impatiently
for the signal for the the attack. At length an aide-de-camp
galloped up from the right with the welcome news that Eugene was
ready. Marlborough instantly sent Lord Cutts, with a strong
brigade of infantry, to assault the village of Blenheim, while he
himself led the main body down the eastward slope of the valley
of the Nebel, and prepared to effect the passage of the stream.

The assault on Blenheim, though bravely made, was repulsed with

severe loss; and Marlborough, finding how strongly that village
was garrisoned, desisted from any further attempts to carry it,
and bent all his energies to breaking the enemy's line between
Blenheim and Oberglau. Some temporary bridges had been prepared,
and planks and fascinas had been collected; and by the aid of
these and a little stone bridge which crossed the Nebel, near a
hamlet called Unterglau, that lay in the centre of the valley,
Marlborough succeeded in getting several squadrons across the
Nebel, though it was divided into several branches, and the
ground between them was soft, and in places, little better than a
mere marsh. But the French artillery was not idle. The cannon
balls plunged incessantly among the advancing squadrons of the
allies; and bodies of French cavalry rode frequently down from
the western ridge, to charge them before they had time to form on
the firm ground. It was only by supporting his men by fresh
troops, and by bringing up infantry, who checked the advance of
the enemy's horse by their steady fire, that Marlborough was able
to save his army in this quarter from a repulse, which, following
the failure of the attack upon Blenheim, would probably have been
fatal to the Allies. By degrees, his cavalry struggled over the
blood-stained streams; the infantry were also now brought across,
so as to keep in check the French troops who held Blenheim, and
who, when no longer assailed in front, had begun to attack the
Allies on their left with considerable effect.

Marlborough had thus at last succeeded in drawing up the whole

left wing of his army beyond the Nebel, and was about to press
forward with it, when he was called away to another part of the
field by a disaster that had befallen his centre. The Prince of
Holstein-Beck had, with eleven Hanoverian battalions, passed the
Nebel opposite to Oberglau, when he was charged and utterly
routed by the Irish brigade which held that village. The Irish
drove the Hanoverians back with heavy slaughter, broke completely
through the line of the Allies, and nearly achieved a success as
brilliant as that which the same brigade afterwards gained at
Fontenoy. But at Blenheim their ardour in pursuit led them too
far. Marlborough came up in person, and dashed in upon their
exposed flank with some squadrons of British cavalry. The Irish
reeled back, and as they strove to regain the height of Oberglau,
their column was raked through and through by the fire of three
battalions of the Allies, which Marlborough had summoned up from
the reserve. Marlborough having re-established the order and
communication of the Allies in this quarter, now, as he returned
to his own left wing, sent to learn how his colleague fared
against Marsin and the Elector, and to inform Eugene of his own
success.

Eugene had hitherto not been equally fortunate. He had made

three attacks on the enemy opposed to him, and had been thrice
driven back. It was only by his own desperate personal
exertions, and the remarkable steadiness of the regiments of
Prussian infantry which were under him, that he was able to save
his wing from being totally defeated. But it was on the southern
part of the battle-field, on the ground which Marlborough had won
beyond the Nebel with such difficulty, that the crisis of the
battle was to be decided.

Like Hannibal, Marlborough relied principally on his cavalry for

achieving his decisive successes, and it was by his cavalry that
Blenheim, the greatest of his victories, was won. The battle had
lasted till five in the afternoon. Marlborough had now eight
thousand horseman drawn up in two lines, and in the most perfect
order for a general attack on the enemy's line along the space
between Blenheim and Oberglau. The infantry was drawn up in
battalions in their rear, so as to support them if repulsed, and
to keep in check the large masses of the French that still
occupied the village of Blenheim. Tallard now interlaced his
squadrons of cavalry with battalions of infantry; and Marlborough
by a corresponding movement, brought several regiments of
infantry, and some pieces of artillery, to his front line, at
intervals between the bodies of horse. A little after five,
Marlborough commenced the decisive movement, and the allied
cavalry, strengthened and supported by foot and guns, advanced
slowly from the lower ground near the Nebel up the slope to where
the French cavalry, ten thousand strong, awaited them. On riding
over the summit of the acclivity, the Allies were received with
so hot a fire from the French artillery and small arms, that at
first the cavalry recoiled, but without abandoning the high
ground. The guns and the infantry which they had brought with
them, maintained the contest with spirit and effect. The French
fire seemed to slacken Marlborough instantly ordered a charge
along the line. The allied cavalry galloped forward at the
enemy's squadrons, and the hearts of the French horseman failed
them. Discharging their carbines at an idle distance, they
wheeled round and spurred from the field, leaving the nine
infantry battalions of their comrades to be ridden down by the
torrent of the allied cavalry. The battle was now won. Tallard
and Marsin, severed from each other, thought only of retreat.
Tallard drew up the squadrons of horse which he had left in a
line extended towards Blenheim, and sent orders to the infantry
in that village to leave and join him without delay. But long
ere his orders could be obeyed, the conquering squadrons of
Marlborough had wheeled to the left and thundered down on the
feeble army of the French marshal. Part of the force which
Tallard had drawn up for this last effort was driven into the
Danube; part fled with their general to the village of
Sonderheim, where they were soon surrounded by the victorious
Allies, and compelled to surrender. Meanwhile, Eugene had
renewed his attack upon the Gallo-Bavarian left, and Marsin,
finding his colleague utterly routed, and his own right flank
uncovered, prepared to retreat. He and the Elector succeeded in
withdrawing a considerable part of their troops in tolerable
order to Dillingen; but the large body of French who garrisoned
Blenheim were left exposed to certain destruction. Marlborough
speedily occupied all the outlets from the village with his
victorious troops, and then, collecting his artillery round it,
he commenced a cannonade that speedily would have destroyed
Blenheim itself and all who were in it. After several gallant
but unsuccessful attempts to cut their way through the Allies,
the French in Blenheim were at length compelled to surrender at
discretion; and twenty-four battalions, and twelve squadrons,
with all their officers, laid down their arms, and became the
captives of Marlborough.

"Such," says Voltaire, "was the celebrated battle, which the

French call the battle of Hochstet, the Germans Plentheim, and
the English Blenheim, The conquerors had about five thousand
killed, and eight thousand wounded, the greater part being on the
side of Prince Eugene. The French army was almost entirely
destroyed: of sixty thousand men, so long victorious, there
never reassembled more than twenty thousand effective. About
twelve thousand killed, fourteen thousand prisoners, all the
cannon, a prodigious number of colours and standards, all the
tents and equipages, the general of the army, and one thousand
two hundred officers of mark, in the power of the conqueror,
signalised that day!"

Ulm, Landau, Treves, and Traerbach surrendered to the allies

before the close of the year. Bavaria submitted to the emperor,
and the Hungarians laid down their arms. Germany was completely
delivered from France; and the military ascendancy of the arms of
the Allies was completely established. Throughout the rest of
the war Louis fought only in defence. Blenheim had dissipated
for ever his once proud visions of almost universal conquest.

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS BETWEEN THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM, 1704, AND THE

BATTLE OF PULTOWA, 1709.

A.D. 1705. The Archduke Charles lands in Spain with a small

English army under Lord Peterborough, who takes Barcelona.

1706. Marlborough's victory at Ramilies.

1707. The English army in Spain is defeated at the battle of

Almanza.

1708. Marlborough's victory at Oudenarde.

CHAPTER XII.

THE BATTLE OF PULTOWA, 1709.

"Dread Pultowa's day,

When fortune left the royal Swede,
Around a slaughtered army lay,
No more to combat and to bleed.
The power and fortune of the war
Had passed to the triumphant Czar."--BYRON.

Napoleon prophesied at St. Helena, that all Europe would soon be

either Cossack or Republican. Four years ago, the fulfilment of
the last of these alternatives appeared most probable. But the
democratic movements of 1848 were sternly repressed in 1849. The
absolute authority of a single ruler, and the austere stillness
of martial law, are now paramount in the capitals of the
continent, which lately owned no sovereignty save the will of the
multitude; and where that which the democrat calls his sacred
right of insurrection, was so loudly asserted and so often
fiercely enforced. Many causes have contributed to bring about
this reaction, but the most effective and the most permanent have
been Russian influence and Russian arms. Russia is now the
avowed and acknowledged champion of Monarchy against Democracy;
--of constituted authority, however acquired, against revolution
and change for whatever purpose desired;--of the imperial
supremacy of strong states over their weaker neighbours against
all claims for political independence, and all striving for
separate nationality. She has crushed the heroic Hungarians; and
Austria, for whom nominally she crushed them, is now one of her
dependents. Whether the rumours of her being about to engage in
fresh enterprises be well or ill founded, it is certain that
recent events must have fearfully augmented the power of the
Muscovite empire, which, even previously, had been the object of
well-founded anxiety to all Western Europe.

It was truly stated, twelve years ago, that "the acquisitions

which Russia has made within the [then] last sixty-four years,
are equal in extent and importance to the whole empire she had in
Europe before that time; that the acquisitions she had made from
Sweden are greater than what remains of that ancient kingdom;
that her acquisitions from Poland are as large as the whole
Austrian empire; that the territory she has wrested from Turkey
in Europe is equal to the dominions of Prussia, exclusive of her
Rhenish provinces; and that her acquisitions from Turkey in Asia
are equal in extent to all the smaller states of Germany, the
Rhenish provinces of Prussia, Belgium, and Holland taken
together; that the country she has conquered from Persia is about
the size of England; that her acquisitions in Tartary have an
area equal to Turkey in Europe, Greece, Italy, and Spain. In
sixty-four years she has advanced her frontier eight hundred and
fifty miles towards Vienna, Berlin, Dresden, Munich, and Paris;
she has approached four hundred and fifty miles nearer to
Constantinople; she has possessed herself of the capital of
Poland, and has advanced to within a few miles of the capital of
Sweden, from which, when Peter the Great mounted the throne, her
frontier was distant three hundred miles. Since that time she
has stretched herself forward about one thousand miles towards
India, and the same distance towards the capital of Persia."
[Progress of Russia in the East. p. 142.]

Such, at that period, had been the recent aggrandisement of

Russia; and the events of the last few years, by weakening and
disuniting all her European neighbours, have immeasurably
augmented the relative superiority of the Muscovite empire over
all the other continental powers.

With a population exceeding sixty millions, all implicitly

obeying the impulse of a single ruling mind; with a territorial
area of six millions and a half of square miles; with a standing
army eight hundred thousand strong; with powerful fleets on the
Baltic and Black Seas; with a skilful host of diplomatic agents
planted in every court, and among every tribe; with the
confidence which unexpected success creates, and the sagacity
which long experience fosters, Russia now grasps with an armed
right hand the tangled thread of European politics, and issues
her mandate as the arbitress of the movements of the age. Yet a
century and a half have hardly elapsed since she was first
recognised as a member of the drama of modern European history--
previously to the battle of Pultowa, Russia played no part.
Charles V. and his great rival our Elizabeth and her adversary
Philip of Spain, the Guises, Sully, Richelieu, Cromwell, De Witt,
William of Orange, and the other leading spirits of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries, thought no more about the Muscovite
Czar than we now think about the King of Timbuctoo. Even as late
as 1735, Lord Bollingbroke, in his admirable "Letters on
History," speaks of the history of the Muscovites, as having no
relation to the knowledge which a practical English statesman
ought to acquire. [Bolingbroke's Works, vol ii. p. 374. In the
same page he observes how Sweden had often turned her arms
southwards with prodigious effect.] It may be doubted whether a
cabinet council often takes place now in our Foreign Office,
without Russia being uppermost in every English statesman's
thoughts.

But though Russia remained thus long unheeded amid her snows,
there was a northern power, the influence of which was
acknowledged in the principal European quarrels, and whose good
will was sedulously courted by many of the boldest chiefs and
ablest councillors of the leading states. This was Sweden;
Sweden, on whose ruins Russia has risen; but whose ascendancy
over her semi-barbarous neighbours was complete, until the fatal
battle that now forms our subject.

As early as 1542 France had sought the alliance of Sweden to aid

her in her struggle against Charles V. And the name of Gustavus
Adolphus is of itself sufficient to remind us, that in the great
contest for religious liberty, of which Germany was for thirty
years the arena, it was Sweden that rescued the falling cause of
Protestantism; and it was Sweden that principally dictated the
remodelling of the European state system at the peace of
Westphalia.

From the proud pre-eminence in which the valour of the "Lion of

the North" and of Torstenston, Bannier, Wrangel and the other
Generals of Gustavus, guided by the wisdom of Oxenstiern, had
placed Sweden, the defeat of Charles XII. at Pultowa hurled her
down at once and for ever. Her efforts during the wars of the
French revolution to assume a leading part in European politics,
met with instant discomfiture, and almost provoked derision. But
the Sweden, whose sceptre was bequeathed to Christina, and whose
alliance Cromwell valued so highly, was a different power from
the Sweden of the present day. Finland, Ingria, Livonia,
Esthonia, Carelia, and other districts east of the Baltic, then
were Swedish provinces; and the possession of Pomerania, Rugen,
and Bremen, made her an important member of the Germanic empire.
These territories are now all reft from her; and the most
valuable of them form the staple of her victorious rival's
strength. Could she resume them, could the Sweden of 1648 be
reconstructed, we should have a first-class Scandinavian State in
the North, well qualified to maintain the balance of power, and
check the progress of Russia; whose power, indeed, never could
have become formidable to Europe, save by Sweden becoming weak.

The decisive triumph of Russia over Sweden at Pultowa was

therefore all-important to the world, on account of what it
overthrew as well as for what it established; and it is the more
deeply interesting because it was not merely the crisis of a
struggle between two states, but it was a trial of strength
between two great races of mankind. We must bear in mind, that
while the Swedes, like the English, the Dutch, and others, belong
to the Germanic race, the Russians are a Sclavonic people.
Nations of Sclavonian origin have long occupied the greater part
of Europe eastward of the Vistula, and the populations also of
Bohemia, Croatia, Servia, Dalmatia, and other important regions
westward of that river, are Sclavonic. In the long and varied
conflicts between them and the Germanic nations that adjoin them,
the Germanic race had, before Pultowa, almost always maintained a
superiority. With the single but important exception of Poland,
no Sclavonic state had made any considerable figure in history
before the time when Peter the Great won his great victory over
the Swedish king. [The Hussite wars may, perhaps, entitle
Bohemia to be distinguished.] What Russia has done since that
time we know and we feel. And some of the wisest and best men of
our own age and nation, who have watched with deepest care the
annals and the destinies of humanity, have believed that the
Sclavonic element in the population of Europe has as yet only
partially developed its powers: that, while other races of
mankind (our own, the Germanic, included) have exhausted their
creative energies, and completed their allotted achievements, the
Sclavonic race has yet a great career to run: and, that the
narrative of Sclavonic ascendancy is the remaining page that;
will conclude the history of the world. [See Arnold's Lectures
on Modern History, pp. 36-39.]

Let it not be supposed that in thus regarding the primary triumph

of Russia over Sweden as a victory of the Sclavonic over the
Germanic race, we are dealing with matters of mere ethnological
pedantry, or with themes of mere speculative curiosity. The fact
that Russia is a Sclavonic empire, is a fact of immense practical
influence at the present moment. Half the inhabitants of the
Austrian empire are Sclavonian. The population of the larger
part of Turkey in Europe is of the same race. Silesia, Posen,
and other parts of the Prussian dominions are principally
Sclavonic. And during late years an enthusiastic zeal for
blending all Sclavonians into one great united Sclavonic empire,
has been growing up in these countries, which, however we may
deride its principle, is not the less real and active, and of
which Russia, as the head and champion of the Sclavonic race,
knows well how to take her advantage.

["The idea of Panslavism had a purely literary origin. It was

started by Pollar, a Protestant clergyman of the Sclavonic
congregation at Pesth, in Hungary, who wished to establish a
national literature, by circulating all works, written in the
various Sclavonic dialects, through every country where any of
them are spoken. He suggested, that all the Slavonic literati
should become acguainted with the sister dialects, so that a
Bohemian, or other work, might be read on the shores of the
Adriatic, as well as on the banks of the Volga, or any other
place where a Sclavonic language was spoken; by which means an
extensive literature might be created, tending to advance
knowledge in all Sclavonic countries; and he supported his
arguments by observing, that the dialects of ancient Greece
differed from each other, like those of his own language, and yet
that they formed only one Hellenic literature. The idea of an
intellectual union of all those nations naturally led to that of
a political one; and the Sclavonians, seeing that their numbers
amounted to about one-third part of the whole population of
Europe, and occupied more than half its territory, began to be
sensible that they might claim for themselves a position, to
which they had not hitherto aspired.

"The opinion gained ground; and the question now is, whether the
Slavonians can form a nation independent of Russia; or whether
they ought to rest satisfied in being part of one great race,
with the most powerful member of it as their chief. The latter,
indeed, is gaining ground amongst them; and some Poles are
disposed to attribute their sufferings to the arbitrary will of
the Czar, without extending the blame to the Russians themselves.
These begin to think that, if they cannot exist as Poles, the
best thing to be done is to rest satisfied with a position in the
Sclavonic empire, and they hope that, when once they give up the
idea of restoring their country, Russia may grant some
concessions to their separate nationality.

"The same idea has been put forward by writers in the Russian
interest; great efforts are making among other Sclavonic people,
to induce them to look upon Russia as their future head; and she
has already gained considerable influence over the Sclavonic
populations of Turkey.--WILKINSON'S DALMATIA.]

It is a singular fact that Russia owes her very name to a band of

Swedish invaders who conquered her a thousand years ago. They
were soon absorbed in the Sclavonic population, and every trace
of the Swedish character had disappeared in Russia for many
centuries before her invasion by Charles XII. She was long the
victim and the slave of the Tartars; and for many considerable
periods of years the Poles held her in subjugation. Indeed, if
we except the expeditions of some of the early Russian chiefs
against Byzantium, and the reign of Ivan Vasilovitch, the history
of Russia before the time of Peter the Great is one long tale of
suffering and degradation.

But whatever may have been the amount of national injuries that
she sustained from Swede, from Tartar, or from Pole in the ages
of her weakness, she has certainly retaliated ten-fold during the
century and a half of her strength. Her rapid transition at the
commencement of that period from being the prey of every
conqueror to being the conqueror of all with whom she comes into
contact, to being the oppressor instead of the oppressed, is
almost without a parallel in the history of nations. It was the
work of a single ruler; who, himself without education, promoted
science and literature among barbaric millions; who gave them
fleets, commerce, arts, and arms; who, at Pultowa, taught them to
face and beat the previously invincible Swedes: and who made
stubborn valour, and implicit subordination, from that time forth
the distinguishing characteristics of the Russian soldiery, which
had before his time been a mere disorderly and irresolute rabble.

The career of Philip of Macedon resembles most nearly that of the

great Muscovite Czar: but there is this important difference,
that Philip had, while young, received in Southern Greece the
best education in all matters of peace and war that the ablest
philosophers and generals of the age could bestow. Peter was
brought up among barbarians, and in barbaric ignorance. He
strove to remedy this when a grown man, by leaving all the
temptations to idleness and sensuality, which his court offered,
and by seeking instruction abroad. He laboured with his own
hands as a common artisan in Holland and in England, that he
might return and teach his subjects how ships, commerce, and
civilization could be acquired. There is a degree of heroism
here superior to anything that we know of in the Macedonian king.
But Philip's consolidation of the long disunited Macedonian
empire,--his raising a people which he found the scorn of their
civilized southern neighbours, to be their dread,--his
organization of a brave and well-disciplined army, instead of a
disorderly militia,--his creation of a maritime force, and his
systematic skill in acquiring and improving sea-ports and
arsenals,--his patient tenacity of purpose under reverses,--his
personal bravery,--and even his proneness to coarse amusements
and pleasures,--all mark him out as the prototype of the imperial
founder of the Russian power. In justice, however, to the
ancient hero, it ought to be added, that we find in the history
of Philip no examples of that savage cruelty which deforms so
grievously the character of Peter the Great.

In considering the effects of the overthrow which the Swedish

arms sustained at Pultowa, and in speculating on the probable
consequences that would have followed if the invaders had been
successful we must not only bear in mind the wretched state In
which Peter found Russia at his accession, compared with her
present grandeur, but we must also keep in view the fact, that,
at the time when Pultowa was fought, his reforms were yet
incomplete, and his new institutions immature. He had broken up
the old Russia; and the New Russia, which he ultimately created,
was still in embryo. Had he been crushed at Pultowa, his mighty
schemes would have been buried with him; and (to use the words of
Voltaire) "the most extensive empire in the world would have
relapsed into the chaos from which it had been so lately taken."
It is this fact that makes the repulse of Charles XII. the
critical point in the fortunes of Russia. The danger which she
incurred a century afterwards from her invasion by Napoleon was
in reality far less than her peril when Charles attacked her;
though the French Emperor, as a military genius, was infinitely
superior to the Swedish King, and led a host against her,
compared with which the armies of Charles seem almost
insignificant. But, as Fouche well warned his imperial master,
when he vainly endeavoured to dissuade him from his disastrous
expedition against the empire of the Czars, the difference
between the Russia of 1812 and the Russia of 1709 was greater,
than the disparity between the power of Charles and the might of
Napoleon. "If that heroic king," said Fouche, "had not, like
your imperial Majesty, half Europe in arms to back him, neither
had his opponent, the Czar Peter, 400,000 soldiers, and 60,000
Cossacks." The historians, who describe the state of the
Muscovite empire when revolutionary and imperial France
encountered it, narrate with truth and justice, how "at the epoch
of the French Revolution this immense empire, comprehending
nearly half of Europe and Asia within its dominions, inhabited by
a patient and indomitable race, ever ready to exchange the luxury
and adventure of the south for the hardships and monotony of the
north, was daily becoming more formidable to the liberties of
Europe. The Russian infantry had then long been celebrated for
its immoveable firmness. Her immense population, amounting then
in Europe alone to nearly thirty-five millions, afforded an
inexhaustible supply of men. Her soldiers, inured to heat and
cold from their infancy, and actuated by a blind devotion to
their Czar, united the steady valour of the English to the
impetuous energy of the French troops." [Alison.] So, also, we
read how the haughty aggressions of Bonaparte "went to excite a
national feeling, from the banks of the Borysthenes to the wall
of China, and to unite against him the wild and uncivilized
inhabitants of an extended empire, possessed by a love to their
religion, their government, and their country, and having a
character of stern devotion, which he was incapable of
estimating." [Scott's Life of Napoleon] But the Russia of 1709
had no such forces to oppose to an assailant. Her whole
population then was below sixteen millions; and, what is far more
important, this population had neither acquired military spirit,
nor strong nationality; nor was it united in loyal attachment to
its ruler.

Peter had wisely abolished the old regular troops of the empire,
the Strelitzes; but the forces which he had raised in their stead
on a new and foreign plan, and principally officered with
foreigners, had, before the Swedish invasion, given no proof that
they could be relied on. In numerous encounters with the Swedes,
Peter's soldiery had run like sheep before inferior numbers.
Great discontent, also, had been excited among all classes of the
community by the arbitrary changes which their great emperor
introduced, many of which clashed with the most cherished
national prejudices of his subjects. A career of victory and
prosperity had not yet raised Peter above the reach of that
disaffection, nor had superstitious obedience to the Czar yet
become the characteristic of the Muscovite mind. The victorious
occupation of Moscow by Charles XII. would have quelled the
Russian nation as effectually, as had been the case when Batou
Khan, and other ancient invaders, captured the capital of
primitive Muscovy. How little such a triumph could effect
towards subduing modern Russia, the fate of Napoleon demonstrated
at once and for ever.

The character of Charles XII. has been a favourite theme with

historians, moralists, philosophers, and poets. But it is his
military conduct during the campaign in Russia that alone
requires comment here. Napoleon, in the memoirs dictated by him
at St. Helena, has given us a systematic criticism on that, among
other celebrated campaigns, his own Russian campaign included.
He labours hard to prove that he himself observed all the true
principles of offensive war: and probably his censures of
Charles's generalship were rather highly coloured, for the sake
of making his own military skill stand out in more favourable
relief. Yet, after making all allowances, we must admit the
force of Napoleon's strictures on Charles's tactics, and own that
his judgment, though severe, is correct, when he pronounces that
the Swedish king, unlike his great predecessor Gustavus, knew
nothing of the art of war, and was nothing more than a brave and
intrepid soldier. Such, however, was not the light in which
Charles was regarded by his contemporaries at the commencement of
his Russian expedition. His numerous victories, his daring and
resolute spirit, combined with the ancient renown of the Swedish
arms, then filled all Europe with admiration and anxiety. As
Johnson expresses it, his name was then one at which the world
grew pale. Even Louis le Grand earnestly solicited his
assistance; and our own Marlborough, then in the full career of
his victories, was specially sent by the English court to the
camp of Charles, to propitiate the hero of the north in favour of
the cause of the allies and to prevent the Swedish sword from
being flung into the scale in the French king's favour. But
Charles at that time was solely bent on dethroning the sovereign
of Russia, as he had already dethroned the sovereign of Poland,
and all Europe fully believed that he would entirely crush the
Czar, and dictate conditions of peace in the Kremlin. [Voltaire
attests, from personal inspection of the letters of several
public ministers to their respective courts, that such was the
general expectation.] Charles himself looked on success as a
matter of certainty; and the romantic extravagance of his views
was continually increasing. "One year, he thought, would suffice
for the conquest of Russia. The court of Rome was next to feel
his vengeance, as the pope had dared to oppose the concession of
religious liberty to the Silesian Protestants. No enterprise at
that time appeared impossible to him. He had even dispatched
several officers privately into Asia and Egypt, to take plans of
the towns, and examine into the strength and resources of those
countries." [Crighton's Scandinavia.]

Napoleon thus epitomises the earlier operations of Charles's

invasion of Russia:--
"That prince set out from his camp at Aldstadt, near Leipsic, in
September 1707, at the head of 46,000 men, and traversed Poland;
20,000 men, under Count Lewenhaupt, disembarked at Riga; and
15,000 were in Finland. He was therefore in a condition to have
brought together 80,000 of the best troops in the world. He left
10,000 men at Warsaw to guard King Stanislaus, and in January
1708, arrived at Grodno, where he wintered. In June he crossed
the forest of Minsk, and presented himself before Borisov; forced
the Russian army, which occupied the left bank of the Beresina;
defeated 20,000 Russians who were strongly entrenched behind
marshes; passed the Borysthenes at Mohiloev, and vanquished a
corps of 16,000 Muscovites near Smolensko, on the 22d of
September. He was now advanced to the confines of Lithuania, and
was about to enter Russia Proper: the Czar, alarmed at his
approach, made him proposals of peace. Up to this time all his
movements mere conformable to rule, and his communications were
well secured. He was master of Poland and Riga, and only ten
days' march distant from Moscow: and it is probable that he
would have reached that capital, had he not quitted the high road
thither, and directed his steps towards the Ukraine, in order to
form a junction with Mazeppa, who brought him only 6,000 men. By
this movement his line of operations, beginning at Sweden,
exposed his flank to Russia for a distance of four hundred
leagues, and he was unable to protect it, or to receive either
reinforcements or assistance."

Napoleon severely censures this neglect of one of the great rules

of war. He points out that Charles had not organized his war
like Hannibal, on the principle of relinquishing all
communications with home, keeping all his forces concentrated,
and creating a base of operations in the conquered country. Such
had been the bold system of the Carthaginian general; but Charles
acted on no such principle, inasmuch as he caused Lewenhaupt, one
of his generals who commanded a considerable detachment, and
escorted a most important convoy, to follow him at a distance of
twelve days' march. By this dislocation of his forces he exposed
Lewenhaupt to be overwhelmed separately by the full force of the
enemy, and deprived the troops under his own command of the aid
which that general's men and stores might have afforded, at the
very crisis of the campaign.

The Czar had collected an army of about a hundred thousand

effective men; and though the Swedes, in the beginning of the
invasion, were successful in every encounter, the Russian troops
were gradually acquiring discipline; and Peter and his officers
were learning generalship from their victors, as the Thebans of
old learned it from the Spartans. When Lewenhaupt, in the
October of 1708, was striving to join Charles in the Ukraine, the
Czar suddenly attacked him near the Borysthenes with an
overwhelming force of fifty thousand Russians. Lewenhaupt fought
bravely for three days, and succeeded in cutting his way through
the enemy, with about four thousand of his men, to where Charles
awaited him near the river Desna; but upwards of eight thousand
Swedes fell in these battles; Lewenhaupt's cannon and ammunition
were abandoned; and the whole of his important convoy of
provisions, on which Charles and his half-starved troops were
relying, fell into the enemy's hands. Charles was compelled to
remain in the Ukraine during the winter; but in the spring of
1709 he moved forward towards Moscow, and invested the fortified
town of Pultowa, on the river Vorskla, a place where the Czar had
stored up large supplies of provisions and military stores, and
which commanded the roads leading towards Moscow. The possession
of this place would have given Charles the means of supplying all
the wants of his suffering army, and would also have furnished
him with a secure base of operations for his advance against the
Muscovite capital. The siege was therefore hotly pressed by the
Swedes; the garrison resisted obstinately; and the Czar, feeling
the importance of saving the town, advanced in June to its
relief, at the head of an army from fifty to sixty thousand
strong.

Both sovereigns now prepared for the general action, which each
perceived to be inevitable, and which each felt would be decisive
of his own and of his country's destiny. The Czar, by some
masterly manoeuvres, crossed the Vorskla, and posted his army on
the same side of that river with the besiegers, but a little
higher up. The Vorskla falls into the Borysthenes about fifteen
leagues below Pultowa, and the Czar arranged his forces in two
lines, stretching from one river towards the other; so that if
the Swedes attacked him and were repulsed, they would be driven
backwards into the acute angle formed by the two streams at their
junction. He fortified these lines with several redoubts, lined
with heavy artillery; and his troops, both horse and foot, were
in the best possible condition, and amply provided with stores
and ammunition. Charles's forces were about twenty-four thousand
strong. But not more than half of these were Swedes; so much had
battle, famine, fatigue, and the deadly frosts of Russia, thinned
the gallant bands which the Swedish king and Lewenhaupt had led
to the Ukraine. The other twelve thousand men under Charles were
Cossacks and Wallachians, who had joined him in that country. On
hearing that the Czar was about to attack him, he deemed that his
dignity required that he himself should be the assailant; and
leading his army out of their entrenched lines before the town,
he advanced with them against the Russian redoubts.

He had been severely wounded in the foot in a skirmish a few days

before; and was borne in a litter along the ranks, into the thick
of the fight. Notwithstanding the fearful disparity of numbers
and disadvantage of position, the Swedes never showed their
ancient valour more nobly than on that dreadful day. Nor do
their Cossack and Wallachian allies seem to have been unworthy of
fighting side by side with Charles's veterans. Two of the
Russian redoubts were actually entered, and the Swedish infantry
began to raise the cry of victory. But on the other side,
neither general nor soldiers flinched in their duty. The Russian
cannonade and musketry were kept up; fresh masses of defenders
were poured into the fortifications, and at length the exhausted
remnants of the Swedish columns recoiled from the blood-stained
redoubts. Then the Czar led the infantry and cavalry of his
first line outside the works, drew them up steadily and
skilfully, and the action was renewed along the whole fronts of
the two armies on the open ground. Each sovereign exposed his
life freely in the world-winning battle; and on each side the
troops fought obstinately and eagerly under their ruler's eye.
It was not till two hours from the commencement of the action
that, overpowered by numbers, the hitherto invincible Swedes gave
way. All was then hopeless disorder and irreparable rout.
Driven downward to where the rivers join, the fugitive Swedes
surrendered to their victorious pursuers, or perished in the
waters of the Borysthenes. Only a few hundreds swam that river
with their king and the Cossack Mazeppa, and escaped into the
Turkish territory. Nearly ten thousand lay killed and wounded in
the redoubts and on the field of battle.

In the joy of his heart the Czar exclaimed, when the strife was
over, "That the son of the morning had fallen from heaven; and
that the foundations of St. Petersburg at length stood firm."
Even on that battle-field, near the Ukraine, the Russian
emperor's first thoughts were of conquests and aggrandisement on
the Baltic. The peace of Nystadt, which transferred the fairest
provinces of Sweden to Russia, ratified the judgment of battle
which was pronounced at Pultowa. Attacks on Turkey and Persia by
Russia commenced almost directly after that victory. And though
the Czar failed in his first attempts against the Sultan, the
successors of Peter have, one and all, carried on an uniformly
aggressive and uniformly successful system of policy against
Turkey, and against every other state, Asiatic as well as
European, which has had the misfortune of having Russia for a
neighbour.

Orators and authors, who have discussed the progress of Russia,

have often alluded to the similitude between the modern extension
of the Muscovite empire and the extension of the Roman dominions
in ancient times. But attention has scarcely been drawn to the
closeness of the parallel between conquering Russia and
conquering Rome, not only in the extent of conquests, but in the
means of effecting conquest. The history of Rome during the
century and a half which followed the close of the second Punic
war, and during which her largest acquisitions of territory were
made, should be minutely compared with the history of Russia for
the last one hundred and fifty years. The main points of
similitude can only be indicated in these pages; but they deserve
the fullest consideration. Above all, the sixth chapter of
Montesquieu's great Treatise on Rome, the chapter "DE LA CONDUITE
QUE LES ROMAINS TINRENT POUR SOUMETTRE LES PEUPLES," should be
carefully studied by every one who watches the career and policy
of Russia. The classic scholar will remember the state-craft of
the Roman Senate, which took care in every foreign war to appear
in the character of a PROTECTOR. Thus Rome PROTECTED the
AEtolians, and the Greek cities, against Macedon; she PROTECTED
Bithynia, and other small Asiatic states, against the Syrian
kings; she protected Numidia against Carthage; and in numerous
other instances assumed the same specious character. But, "Woe
to the people whose liberty depends on the continued forbearance
of an over-mighty protector." [Malkin's History of Greece.]
Every state which Rome protected was ultimately subjugated and
absorbed by her. And Russia has been the protector of Poland,
the protector of the Crimea,--the protector of Courland,--the
protector of Georgia, Immeritia, Mingrelia, the Tcherkessian and
Caucasian tribes. She has first protected, and then appropriated
them all. She protects Moldavia and Wallachia. A few years ago
she became the protector of Turkey from Mehemet Ali; and since
the summer of 1849 she has made herself the protector of Austria.

When the partisans of Russia speak of the disinterestedness with

which she withdrew her protecting troops from Constantinople, and
from Hungary, let us here also mark the ominous exactness of the
parallel between her and Rome. While the ancient world yet
contained a number of independent states, which might have made a
formidable league against Rome if she had alarmed them by openly
avowing her ambitious schemes, Rome's favourite policy was
seeming disinterestedness and moderation. After her first war
against Philip, after that against Antiochus, and many others,
victorious Rome promptly withdrew her troops from the territories
which they occupied. She affected to employ her arms only for
the good of others; but, when the favourable moment came, she
always found a pretext for marching her legions back into each
coveted district, and making it a Roman province. Fear, not
moderation, is the only effective check on the ambition of such
powers as Ancient Rome and Modern Russia. The amount of that
fear depends on the amount of timely vigilance and energy which
other states choose to employ against the common enemy of their
freedom and national independence.

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS FROM THE BATTLE OF PULTOWA, 1709, AND THE

DEFEAT OF BURGOYNE AT SARATOGA, 1777.

A.D. 1713. Treaty of Utrecht. Philip is left by it in

possession of the throne of Spain. But Naples, Milan, the
Spanish territories on the Tuscan coast, the Spanish Netherlands,
and some parts of the French Netherlands, are given to Austria.
France cedes to England Hudson's Bay and Straits, the Island of
St. Christopher, Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland in America, Spain
cedes to England Gibraltar and Minorca, which the English had
taken during the war. The King of Prussia and the Duke of Savoy
both obtain considerable additions of territory to their
dominions.

1714. Death of Queen Anne. The House of Hanover begins to reign

in England. A rebellion in favour of the Stuarts is put down.
Death of Louis XIV.
1718. Charles XII. killed at the siege of Frederickshall.

1725. Death of Peter the Great of Russia.

1740. Frederick II, King of Prussia, begins his reign. He

attacks the Austrian dominions, and conquers Silesia.

1742. War between France and England.

1743. Victory of the English at Dettingen.

1745. Victory of the French at Fontenoy. Rebellion in Scotland

in favour of the House of Stuart: finally quelled by the battle
of Culloden in the next year.

1748. Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle.

1756-1763. The Seven Years' War, during which Prussia makes an

heroic resistance against the allies of Austria, Russia, and
France. England, under the administration of the elder Pitt
(afterwards Lord Chatham), takes a glorious part in the war in
opposition to France and Spain. Wolfe wins the battle of Quebec,
and the English conquer Canada, Cape Breton, and St. John. Clive
begins his career of conquest in India. Cuba, is taken by the
English from Spain.

1763. Treaty of Paris: which leaves the power of Prussia

increased, and its military reputation greatly exalted.

"France, by the treaty of Paris, ceded to England Canada, and the

island of Cape Breton, with the islands and coasts of the gulf
and river of St. Lawrence. The boundaries between the two
nations in North America were fixed by a line drawn along the
middle of the Mississippi, from its source to its mouth. All on
the left or eastern bank of that river, was given up to England,
except the city of New Orleans, which was reserved to France; as
was also the liberty of the fisheries on a part of the coasts of
Newfoundland and the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The islands of St.
Peter and Miquelon were given them as a shelter for their
fishermen, but without permission to raise fortifications. The
islands of Martinico, Guadaloupe, Mariegalante, Desirada, and St.
Lucia, were surrendered to France; while Grenada, the Grenadines,
St. Vincent, Dominica, and Tobago, were ceded to England. This
latter power retained her conquests on the Senegal, and restored
to France the island of Gores, on-the coast of Africa. France
was put in possession of the forts and factories which belonged
to her in the East Indies, on the coasts of Coromandel, Orissa,
Malabar, and Bengal under the restriction of keeping up no
military force in Bengal.

"In Europe, France restored all the conquests she had made in
Germany; as also the island, of Minorca, England gave up to her
Belleisle, on the coast of Brittany; while Dunkirk was kept in
the same condition as had been determined by the peace of Aix-la-
Chapelle. The island of Cuba, with the Havannah, were restored
to the King of Spain, who, on his part, ceded to England Florida,
with Port-Augustine and the Bay of Pensacola. The King of
Portugal was restored to the same state in which he had been
before the war. The colony of St. Sacrament in America, which
the Spaniards had conquered, was given back to him.

"The peace of Paris, of which we have just now spoken, was the
era of England's greatest prosperity. Her commerce and
navigation extended over all parts of the globe, and were
supported by a naval force so much the more imposing, as it was
no longer counter-balanced by the maritime power of France, which
had been almost annihilated in the preceding war. The immense
territories which that peace had secured her, both in Africa and
America, opened up new channels for her industry: and what
deserves specially to be remarked is, that she acquired at the
same time vast and important possessions in the East Indies."
[Koch's Revolutions of Europe.]

CHAPTER XIII.

VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS OVER BURGOYNE AT SARATOGA, A.D. 1777.

"Westward the course of empire takes its way;

The first four acts already past,
A fifth shall close the drama with the day:
TIME'S NOBLEST OFFSPRING IS ITS LAST."
BISHOP BERKELEY.

"Even of those great conflicts, in which hundreds of thousands

have been engaged and tens of thousands have fallen, none has
been more fruitful of results than this surrender of thirty-five
hundred fighting-men at Saratoga. It not merely changed the
relations of England and the feelings of Europe towards these
insurgent colonies, but it has modified, for all times to come,
the connexion between every colony and every parent state."--LORD
MAHON.

Of the four great powers that now principally rule the political
destinies of the world, France and England are the only two whose
influence can be dated back beyond the last century and a half.
The third great power, Russia, was a feeble mass of barbarism
before the epoch of Peter the Great; and the very existence of
the fourth great power, as an independent nation, commenced
within the memory of living men. By the fourth great power of
the world I mean the mighty commonwealth of the western
continent, which now commands the admiration of mankind. That
homage is sometimes reluctantly given, and accompanied with
suspicion and ill-will. But none can refuse it. All the
physical essentials for national strength are undeniably to be
found in the geographical position and amplitude of territory
which the United States possess: in their almost inexhaustible
tracts of fertile, but hitherto untouched soil; in their stately
forests, in their mountain-chains and their rivers, their beds of
coal, and stores of metallic wealth; in their extensive seaboard
along the waters of two oceans, and in their already numerous and
rapidly increasing population. And, when we examine the
character of this population, no one can look on the fearless
energy, the sturdy determination, the aptitude for local self
government, the versatile alacrity, and the unresting spirit of
enterprise which characterise the Anglo-Americans, without
feeling that he here beholds the true moral elements of
progressive might.

Three quarters of a century have not yet passed away since the
United States ceased to be mere dependencies of England. And
even if we date their origin from the period when the first
permanent European settlements, out of which they grew, were made
on the western coast of the North Atlantic, the increase of their
strength is unparalleled, either in rapidity or extent.

The ancient Roman boasted, with reason, of the growth of Rome

from humble beginnings to the greatest magnitude which the world
had then ever witnessed. But the citizen of the United States is
still more justly entitled to claim this praise. In two
centuries and a half his country has acquired ampler dominion
than the Roman gained in ten. And even if we credit the legend
of the band of shepherds and outlaws with which Romulus is said
to have colonized the Seven Hills, we find not there so small a
germ of future greatness, as we find in the group of a hundred
and five ill-chosen and disunited emigrants who founded Jamestown
in 1607, or in the scanty band of the Pilgrim-Fathers, who, a few
years later, moored their bark on the wild and rock-bound coast
of the wilderness that was to become New England. The power of
the United States is emphatically the "Imperium quo neque ab
exordio ullum fere minus, neque incrementis toto orbe amplius
humans potest memoria recordari." [Eutropius, lib. i.
(exordium).]

Nothing is more calculated to impress the mind with a sense of

the rapidity with which the resources of the American republic
advance, than the difficulty which the historical inquirer finds
in ascertaining their precise amount. If he consults the most
recent works, and those written by the ablest investigators of
the subject, he finds in them admiring comments on the change
which the last few years, before those books were written, had
made; but when he turns to apply the estimates in those books to
the present moment, he finds them wholly inadequate. Before a
book on the subject of the United States has lost its novelty,
those states have outgrown the description which it contains.
The celebrated work of the French statesman, De Tocqueville,
appeared about fifteen years ago. In the passage which I am
about to quote, it will be seen that he predicts the constant
increase of the Anglo-American power, but he looks on the Rocky
Mountains as their extreme western limit for many years to come.
He had evidently no expectation of himself seeing that power
dominant along the Pacific as well as along the Atlantic coast.
He says:--

"The distance from Lake Superior to the Gulf of Mexico extends

from the 47th to the 30th degree of latitude, a distance of more
than 1,200 miles, as the bird flies. The frontier of the United
States winds along the whole of this immense line; sometimes
falling within its limits, but more frequently extending far
beyond it into the waste. It has been calculated that the
Whites, advance every year a mean distance of seventeen miles
along the whole of this vast boundary. Obstacles, such as an
unproductive district, a lake, or an Indian nation unexpectedly
encountered, are sometimes met with. The advancing column then
halts for a while; its two extremities fall back upon themselves,
and as soon as they are re-united they proceed onwards. This
gradual and continuous progress of the European race towards the
Rocky Mountains has the solemnity of a Providential event: it is
like a deluge of men rising unabatedly, and daily driven onwards
by the hand of God.

"Within this first line of conquering settlers towns are built,

and vast estates founded. In 1790 there were only a few thousand
pioneers sprinkled along the valleys of the Mississippi: and at
the present day these valleys contain as many inhabitants as were
to be found in the whole Union in 1790. Their population amounts
to nearly four millions. The city of Washington was founded in
1800, in the very centre of the Union; but such are the changes
which have taken place, that it now stands at one of the
extremities; and the delegates of the most remote Western States
are already obliged to perform a journey as long so that from
Vienna to Paris.

"It must not, then, be imagined that the impulse of the British
race in the New World can be arrested. The dismemberment of the
Union, and the hostilities which might ensue, the abolition of
republican institutions, and the tyrannical government which
might succeed it, may retard this impulse, but they cannot
prevent it from ultimately fulfilling the destinies to which that
race is reserved. No power upon earth can close upon the
emigrants that fertile wilderness, which offers resources to all
industry, and a refuge from all want. Future events, of whatever
nature they may be, will not deprive the Americans of their
climate or of their inland seas, or of their great rivers, or of
their exuberant soil. Nor will bad laws, revolutions, and
anarchy be able to obliterate that love of prosperity and that
spirit of enterprise which seem to be the distinctive
characteristics of their race, or to extinguish that knowledge
which guides them on their way.

"Thus, in the midst of the uncertain future, one event at least

is sure. At a period which may be said to be near (for we are
speaking of the life of a nation), the Anglo-Americans will alone
cover the immense space contained between the Polar regions and
the Tropics, extending from the coast of the Atlantic to the
shores of the Pacific Ocean; the territory which will probably be
occupied by the Anglo-Americans at some future time, may be
computed to equal three-quarters of Europe in extent. The
climate of the Union is upon the whole preferable to that of
Europe, and its natural advantages are not less great; it is
therefore evident that its population will at some future time be
proportionate to our own. Europe, divided as it is between so
many different nations, and torn as it has been by incessant wars
and the barbarous manners of the Middle Ages, has notwithstanding
attained a population of 410 inhabitants to the square league.
What cause can prevent the United States from having as numerous
a population in time?

"The time will therefore come when one hundred and fifty millions
of men will be living in North America, equal in condition, the
progeny of one race, owing their origin to the same cause, and
preserving the same civilization, the same language, the same
religion, the same habits, the same manners, and imbued with the
same opinions, propagated under the same forms. The rest is
uncertain, but this is certain; and it is a fact new to the
world, a fact fraught with such portentous consequences as to
baffle the efforts even of the imagination."

[The original French of these passages will be found in the

chapter on "Quelles sont les chances de duree de l'Union
Americaine--Quels dangers la menacent." in the third volume of
the first part of De Tocqueville, and in the conclusion of the
first part. They are (with others) collected and translated by
Mr. Alison, in his "Essays," vol. iii. p. 374.]

Let us turn from the French statesman writing in 1835, to an

English statesman, who is justly regarded as the highest
authority on all statistical subjects, and who described the
United States only seven years ago. Macgregor [Macgregor's
Commercial Statistics.] tells us--

"The States which, on the ratification of independence, formed

the American Republican Union, were thirteen, viz.:--

"Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Rhode Island, New

York, New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Virginia,
North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia. "The foregoing
thirteen states (THE WHOLE INHABITED TERRITORY OF WHICH, WITH THE
EXCEPTION OF A FEW SMALL SETTLEMENTS, WAS CONFINED TO THE REGION
EXTENDING BETWEEN THE ALLEGHANY MOUNTAINS AND THE ATLANTIC) were
those which existed at the period when they became an
acknowledged separate and independent federal sovereign power.
The thirteen stripes of the standard or flag of the United
States, continue to represent the original number, The stars have
multiplied to twenty-six, [Fresh stars have dawned since this was
written.] according as the number of States have increased.

"The territory of the thirteen original States of the Union,

including Maine and Vermont, comprehended a superficies of
371,124 English square miles; that of the whole United Kingdom of
Great Britain and Ireland, 120,354; that of France, including
Corsica, 214,910; that of the Austrian Empire, including Hungary
and all the Imperial States, 257,540 English square miles.

"The present superficies of the twenty-six constitutional States

of the Anglo-American Union, and the district of Columbia, and
territories of Florida, include 1,029,025 square miles; to which
if we add the north-west, or Wisconsin territory, east of the
Mississippi, and bounded by Lake Superior on the north, and
Michigan on the east, and occupying at least 100,000 square
miles, and then add the great western region, not yet well-
defined territories, but at the most limited calculation
comprehending 700,000 square miles, the whole unbroken in its
vast length and breadth by foreign nations, comprehends a portion
of the earth's surface equal to 1,729,025 English, or 1,296,770
geographical square miles."
We may add that the population of the States, when they declared
their independence, was about two millions and a half; it is now
twenty-three millions.

I have quoted Macgregor, not only on account of the clear and

full view which he gives of the progress of America to the date
when he wrote, but because his description may be contrasted with
what the United States have become even since his book appeared.
Only three years after the time when Macgregor thus wrote, the
American President truly stated:--

"Within less than four years the annexation of Texas to the Union
has been consummated; all conflicting title to the Oregon
territory, south of the 49th degree of north latitude, adjusted;
and New Mexico and Upper California have been acquired by treaty.
The area of these several territories contains 1,193,061 square
miles, or 763,559,040 acres; while the area of the remaining
twenty-nine States, and the territory not yet organized into
States east of the Rocky Mountains, contains 2,059,513 square
miles, or 1,318,126,058 acres. These estimates show that the
territories recently acquired, and over which our exclusive
jurisdiction and dominion have been extended, constitute a
country more than half as large as all that which was held by the
United States before their acquisition. If Oregon be excluded
from the estimate, there will still remain within the limits of
Texas, New Mexico, and California, 851,598 square miles, or
545,012,720 acres; being an addition equal to more than one-third
of all the territory owned by the United States before their
acquisition; and, including Oregon, nearly as great an extent of
territory as the whole of Europe, Russia only excepted. THE
MISSISSIPPI, SO LATELY THE FRONTIER OF OUR COUNTRY, IS NOW ONLY
ITS CENTRE. With the addition of the late acquisitions, the
United States are now estimated to be nearly as large as the
whole of Europe. The extent of the sea-coast of Texas, on the
Gulf of Mexico, is upwards of 400 miles; of the coast of Upper
California, on the Pacific, of 970 miles; and of Oregon,
including the Straits of Fuca, of 650 miles; MAKING THE WHOLE
EXTENT OF SEA-COAST ON THE PACIFIC 1,620 MILES; and the whole
extent on both the Pacific and the Gulf of Mexico, 2,020 miles.
The length of the coast on the Atlantic, from the northern limits
of the United States, round the Capes of Florida to the Sabine on
the eastern boundary of Texas, is estimated to be 3,100 miles, so
that the addition of sea-coast, including Oregon, is very nearly
two-thirds as great as all we possessed before; and, excluding
Oregon, is an addition of 1,370 miles; being nearly equal to one-
half of the extent of coast which we possessed before these
acquisitions. We have now three great maritime fronts--on the
Atlantic, the Gulf of Mexico, and the Pacific; making, in the
whole, an extent of sea-coast exceeding 5,000 miles. This is the
extent of the sea-coast of the United States, not including bays,
sounds, and small irregularities of the main shore, and of the
sea islands. If these be included, the length of the shore line
of coast, as estimated by the superintendent of the Coast Survey,
in his report, would be 33,063 miles."

The importance of the power of the United States being then

firmly planted along the Pacific applies not only to the New
World, but to the Old. Opposite to San Francisco, on the coast
of that ocean, lie the wealthy but decrepit empires of China and
Japan. Numerous groups of islets stud the larger part of the
intervening sea, and form convenient stepping-stones for the
progress of commerce or ambition. The intercourse of traffic
between these ancient Asiatic monarchies, and the young Anglo-
American Republic, must be rapid and extensive. Any attempt of
the Chinese or Japanese rulers to check it, will only accelerate
an armed collision. The American will either buy or force his
way. Between such populations as that of China and Japan on the
one side, and that of the United States on the other--the former
haughty, formal, and insolent, the latter bold, intrusive, and
unscrupulous--causes of quarrel must, sooner or later, arise, The
results of such a quarrel cannot be doubted. America will
scarcely imitate the forbearance shown by England at the end of
our late war with the Celestial Empire; and the conquests of
China and Japan by the fleets and armies of the United States,
are events which many now living are likely to witness. Compared
with the magnitude of such changes in the dominion of the Old
World, the certain ascendancy of the Anglo-Americans over Central
and Southern America, seems a matter of secondary importance.
Well may we repeat De Tocqueville's words, that the growing power
of this commonwealth is, "Un fait entierement nouveau dans le
monde, et dont l'imagination ellememe ne saurait saisir la
portee." [These remarks were written in May 1851, and now, in
May 1852, a powerful squadron of American war-steamers has been
sent to Japan, for the ostensible purpose of securing protection
for the crews of American vessels shipwrecked on the Japanese
coasts, but also evidently for important ulterior purposes.]

An Englishman may look, and ought to look, on the growing

grandeur of the Americans with no small degree of generous
sympathy and satisfaction. They, like ourselves, are members of
the great Anglo-Saxon nation "whose race and language are now
overrunning the world from one end of it to the other." [Arnold.]
and whatever differences of form of government may exist between
us and them; whatever reminiscences of the days when, though
brethren, we strove together, may rankle in the minds of us, the
defeated party; we should cherish the bonds of common nationality
that still exist between us. We should remember, as the
Athenians remembered of the Spartans at a season of jealousy and
temptation, that our race is one, being of the same blood,
speaking the same language, having an essential resemblance in
our institutions and usages, and worshipping in the temples of
the same God. [HERODOTUS, viii. 144.] All this may and should
be borne in mind. And yet an Englishman can hardly watch the
progress of America, without the regretful thought that America
once was English, and that, but for the folly of our rulers, she
might be English still. It is true that the commerce between the
two countries has largely and beneficially increased; but this is
no proof that the increase would not have been still greater, had
the States remained integral portions of the same great empire.
By giving a fair and just participation in political rights,
these, "the fairest possessions" of the British crown, might have
been preserved to it. "This ancient and most noble monarchy"
[Lord Chatham.] would not have been dismembered; nor should we
see that which ought to be the right arm of our strength, now
menacing us in every political crisis, as the most formidable
rival of our commercial and maritime ascendancy.
The war which rent away the North American colonies of England
is, of all subjects in history, the most painful for an
Englishman to dwell on. It was commenced and carried on by the
British ministry in iniquity and folly, and it was concluded in
disaster and shame. But the contemplation of it cannot be evaded
by the historian, however much it may be abhorred. Nor can any
military event be said to have exercised more important influence
on the future fortunes of mankind, than the complete defeat of
Burgoyne's expedition in 1777; a defeat which rescued the
revolted colonists from certain subjection; and which, by
inducing the courts of France and Spain to attack England in
their behalf, ensured the independence of the United States, and
the formation of that trans-Atlantic power which, not only
America, but both Europe and Asia, now see and feel.

Still, in proceeding to describe this "decisive battle of the

world," a very brief recapitulation of the earlier events of the
war may be sufficient; nor shall I linger unnecessarily on a
painful theme.

The five northern colonies of Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode

Island, New Hampshire, and Vermont, usually classed together as
the New England colonies, were the strongholds of the
insurrection against the mother-country. The feeling of
resistance was less vehement and general in the central
settlement of New York; and still less so in Pennsylvania,
Maryland, and the other colonies of the south, although
everywhere it was formidably active. Virginia should, perhaps,
be particularised for the zeal which its leading men displayed in
the American cause; but it was among the descendants of the stern
Puritans that the spirit of Cromwell and Vane breathed in all its
fervour; it was from the New Englanders that the first armed
opposition to the British crown had been offered; and it was by
them that the most stubborn determination to fight to the last,
rather than waive a single right or privilege, had been
displayed. In 1775, they had succeeded in forcing the British
troops to evacuate Boston; and the events of 1776 had made New
York (which the royalists captured in that year) the principal
basis of operations for the armies of the mother-country.

A glance at the map will show that the Hudson river, which falls
into the Atlantic at New York, runs down from the north at the
back of the New England States, forming an angle of about forty-
five degrees with the line of the coast of the Atlantic, along
which the New England states are situate. Northward of the
Hudson, we see a small chain of lakes communicating with the
Canadian frontier. It is necessary to attend closely to these
geographical points, in order to understand the plan of the
operations which the English attempted in 1777, and which the
battle of Saratoga defeated.

The English had a considerable force in Canada; and in 1776 had

completely repulsed an attack which the Americans had made upon
that province. The British ministry resolved to avail
themselves, in the next year, of the advantage which the
occupation of Canada gave them, not merely for the purpose of
defence, but for the purpose of striking a vigorous and crushing
blow against the revolted colonies. With this view, the army in
Canada was largely reinforced. Seven thousand veteran troops
were sent out from England, with a corps of artillery abundantly
supplied, and led by select and experienced officers. Large
quantities of military stores were also furnished for the
equipment of the Canadian volunteers, who were expected to join
the expedition. It was intended that the force thus collected
should march southward by the line of the lakes, and thence along
the banks of the Hudson river. The British army in New York (or
a large detachment of it) was to make a simultaneous movement
northward, up the line of the Hudson, and the two expeditions
were to unite at Albany, a town on that river. By these
operations all communication between the northern colonies and
those of the centre and south would be cut off. An irresistible
force would be concentrated, so as to crush all further
opposition in New England; and when this was done, it was
believed that the other colonies would speedily submit. The
Americans had no troops in the field that seemed able to baffle
these movements. Their principal army, under Washington, was
occupied in watching over Pennsylvania and the south. At any
rate it was believed that, in order to oppose the plan intended
for the new campaign, the insurgents must risk a pitched battle,
in which the superiority of the royalists, in numbers, in
discipline, and in equipment, seemed to promise to the latter a
crowning victory. Without question the plan was ably formed; and
had the success of the execution been equal to the ingenuity of
the design, the re-conquest or submission of the thirteen United
States must, in all human probability, have followed; and the
independence which they proclaimed in 1776 would have been
extinguished before it existed a second year. No European power
had as yet come forward to aid America. It is true that England
was generally regarded with jealousy and ill-will, and was
thought to have acquired, at the treaty of Paris, a preponderance
of dominion which was perilous to the balance of power; but
though many were willing to wound, none had yet ventured to
strike; and America, if defeated in 1777, would have been
suffered to fall unaided.

[In Lord Albemarle's "Memoirs of the Marquis of Rockingham." is

contained the following remarkable state paper, drawn up by King
George III himself respecting the plan of Burgoyne's expedition.
The original is in the king's own hand.

"REMARKS ON THE CONDUCT OF THE WAR FROM CANADA.

"The outlines of the plan seem to be on a proper foundation. The

rank and file of the army now in Canada (including the 11th
Regiment of British, M'Clean's corps, the Brunswicks and
Hanover), amount to 10,527; add the eleven additional companies
and four hundred Hanover Chasseurs, the total will be 11,443.

"As sickness and other contingencies must be expected, I should

think not above 7,000 effectives can be spared over Lake
Champlain; for it would be highly imprudent to run any risk in
Canada.

"The fixing the stations of those left in the province may not be
quite right, though the plan proposed may be recommended.
Indians must be employed, and this measure must be avowedly
directed, and Carleton must be in the strongest manner directed
that the Apollo shall be ready by that day, to receive Burgoyne.

"The magazines must be formed with the greatest expedition, at

Crown Point.

"If possible, possession must be taken of Lake George, and

nothing but an absolute impossibility of succeeding in this, can
be an excuse for proceeding by South Bay and Skeenborough.

"As Sir W. Howe does not think of acting from Rhode island into
the Massachusets, the force from Canada must join him in Albany.

"The diversion on the Mohawk River ought at least to be

strengthened by the addition of the four hundred Hanover
Chasseurs.

"The Ordnance ought to furnish a complete proportion of

intrenching tools.

"The provisions ought to be calculated for a third more than the

effective soldiery, and the General ordered to avoid delivering
these when the army can be subsisted by the country. Burgoyne
certainly greatly undervalues the German recruits.

"The idea of carrying the army by sea to Sir W. Howe, would

certainly require the leaving a much larger part of it in Canada,
as in that case the rebel army would divide that province from
the immense one under Sir W. Howe. I greatly dislike this last
idea."]

Burgoyne had gained celebrity by some bold and dashing exploits

in Portugal during the last war; he was personally as brave an
officer as ever headed British troops; he had considerable skill
as a tactician; and his general intellectual abilities and
acquirements were of a high order. He had several very able and
experienced officers under him, among whom were Major-General
Phillips and Brigadier-General Fraser. His regular troops
amounted, exclusively of the corps of artillery, to about seven
thousand two hundred men, rank and file. Nearly half of these
were Germans. He had also an auxiliary force of from two to
three thousand Canadians. He summoned the warriors of several
tribes of the Red Indians near the western lakes to join his
army. Much eloquence was poured forth, both in America and in
England, in denouncing the use of these savage auxiliaries. Yet
Burgoyne seems to have done no more than Montcalm, Wolfe, and
other French, American, and English generals had done before him.
But, in truth, the lawless ferocity of the Indians, their
unskilfulness in regular action, and the utter impossibility of
bringing them under any discipline, made their services of little
or no value in times of difficulty: while the indignation which
their outrages inspired, went far to rouse the whole population
of the invaded districts into active hostilities against
Burgoyne's force.

Burgoyne assembled his troops and confederates near the river

Bouquet, on the west side of Lake Champlain. He then, on the
21st of June, 1777, gave his Red Allies a war-feast, and
harangued them on the necessity of abstaining from their usual
cruel practices against unarmed people and prisoners. At the
same time he published a pompous manifesto to the Americans, in
which he threatened the refractory with all the horrors of war,
Indian as well as European. The army proceeded by water to Crown
Point, a fortification which the Americans held at the northern
extremity of the inlet by which the water from Lake George is
conveyed to Lake Champlain. He landed here without opposition;
but the reduction of Ticonderoga, a fortification about twelve
miles to the south of Crown Point, was a more serious matter, and
was supposed to be the critical part of the expedition.
Ticonderoga commanded the passage along the lakes, and was
considered to be the key to the route which Burgoyne wished to
follow. The English had been repulsed in an attack on it in the
war with the French in 1768 with severe loss. But Burgoyne now
invested it with great skill; and the American general, St.
Clair, who had only an ill-equipped army of about three thousand
men, evacuated it on the 5th of July. It seems evident that a
different course would have caused the destruction or capture of
his whole army; which, weak as it was, was the chief force then
in the field for the protection of the New England states. When
censured by some of his countrymen for abandoning Ticonderoga,
St. Clair truly replied, "that he had lost a post, but saved a
province." Burgoyne's troops pursued the retiring Americans,
gained several advantages over them, and took a large part of
their artillery and military stores.

The loss of the British in these engagements was trifling. The

army moved southward along Lake George to Skenesborough; and
thence slowly, and with great difficulty, across a broken
country, full of creeks and marshes, and clogged by the enemy
with felled trees and other obstacles, to Fort Edward, on the
Hudson river, the American troops continuing to retire before
them.

Burgoyne reached the left bank of the Hudson river on the 30th of
July. Hitherto he had overcome every difficulty which the enemy
and the nature of the country had placed in his way. His army
was in excellent order and in the highest spirits; and the peril
of the expedition seemed over, when they were once on the bank of
the river which was to be the channel of communication between
them and the British army in the south. But their feelings, and
those of the English nation in general when their successes were
announced, may best be learned from a contemporary writer.
Burke, in the "Annual Register" for 1777, describes them thus:--

"Such was the rapid torrent of success, which swept everything

away before the northern army in its onset. It is not to be
wondered at, if both officers and private men were highly elated
with their good fortune, and deemed that and their prowess to be
irresistible; if they regarded their enemy with the greatest
contempt; considered their own toils to be nearly at an end;
Albany to be already in their hands; and the reduction of the
northern provinces to be rather a matter of some time, than an
arduous task full of difficulty and danger.

"At home, the joy and exultation was extreme; not only at court,
but with all those who hoped or wished the unqualified
subjugation, and unconditional submission of the colonies. The
loss in reputation was greater to the Americans, and capable of
more fatal consequences, than even that of ground, of posts, of
artillery, or of men. All the contemptuous and most degrading
charges which had been made by their enemies, of their wanting
the resolution and abilities of men, even in their defence of
whatever was dear to them, were now repeated and believed. Those
who still regarded them as men, and who had not yet lost all
affection to them as brethren, who also retained hopes that a
happy reconciliation upon constitutional principles, without
sacrificing the dignity or the just authority of government on
the one side, or a dereliction of the rights of freemen on the
other, was not even now impossible, notwithstanding their
favourable dispositions in general, could not help feeling upon
this occasion that the Americans sunk not a little in their
estimation. It was not difficult to diffuse an opinion that the
war in effect was over; and that any further resistance could
serve only to render the terms of their submission the worse.
Such were some of the immediate effects of the loss of those
grand keys of North America, Ticonderoga and the lakes."

The astonishment and alarm which these events produced among the
Americans were naturally great; but in the midst of their
disasters none of the colonists showed any disposition to submit.
The local governments of the New England States, as well as the
Congress, acted with vigour and firmness in their efforts to
repel the enemy. General Gates was sent to take command of the
army at Saratoga; and Arnold, a favourite leader of the
Americans, was despatched by Washington to act under him, with
reinforcements of troops and guns from the main American army.
Burgoyne's employment of the Indians now produced the worst
possible effects. Though he laboured hard to check the
atrocities which they were accustomed to commit, he could not
prevent the occurrence of many barbarous outrages, repugnant both
to the feelings of humanity and to the laws of civilized warfare.
The American commanders took care that the reports of these
excesses should be circulated far and wide, well knowing that
they would make the stern New Englanders not droop, but rage.
Such was their effect; and though, when each man looked upon his
wife, his children, his sisters, or his aged parents, the thought
of the merciless Indian "thirsting for the blood of man, woman,
and child," of "the cannibal savage torturing, murdering,
roasting, and eating the mangled victims of his barbarous
battles," [Lord Chatham's speech on the employment of Indians in
the war.] might raise terror in the bravest breasts; this very
terror produced a directly contrary effect to causing submission
to the royal army. It was seen that the few friends of the royal
cause, as well as its enemies, were liable to be the victims of
the indiscriminate rage of the savages;" [See in the "Annual
Register" for 1777, p.117, the "Narrative of the Murder of Miss
M'Crea, the daughter of an American loyalist."] and thus "the
inhabitants of the open and frontier countries had no choice of
acting: they had no means of security left, but by abandoning
their habitations and taking up arms. Every man saw the
necessity of becoming a temporary soldier, not only for his own
security, but for the protection and defence of those connexions
which are dearer than life itself. Thus an army was poured forth
by the woods, mountains, and marshes, which in this part were
thickly sown with plantations and villages. The Americans
recalled their courage; and when their regular army seemed to be
entirely wasted, the spirit of the country produced a much
greater and more formidable force." [Burke.]

While resolute recruits, accustomed to the use of fire-arms, and

all partially trained by service in the provincial militias, were
thus flocking to the standard of Gates and Arnold at Saratoga;
and while Burgoyne was engaged at Port Edward in providing the
means for the further advance of his army through the intricate
and hostile country that still lay before him, two events
occurred, in each of which the British sustained loss, and the
Americans obtained advantage, the moral effects of which were
even more important than the immediate result of the encounters.
When Burgoyne left Canada, General St. Leger was detached from
that province with a mixed force of about one thousand men, and
some light field-pieces, across Lake Ontario against Fort
Stanwix, which the Americans held. After capturing this, he was
to march along the Mohawk river to its confluence with the
Hudson, between Saratoga and Albany, where his force and that of
Burgoyne were to unite. But, after some successes, St. Leger was
obliged to retreat, and to abandon his tents and large quantities
of stores to the garrison. At the very time that General
Burgoyne heard of this disaster, he experienced one still more
severe in the defeat of Colonel Baum with a large detachment of
German troops at Benington, whither Burgoyne had sent them for
the purpose of capturing some magazines of provisions, of which
the British army stood greatly in need. The Americans, augmented
by continual accessions of strength, succeeded, after many
attacks, in breaking this corps, which fled into the woods, and
left its commander mortally wounded on the field: they then
marched against a force of five hundred grenadiers and light
infantry, which was advancing to Colonel Baum's assistance under
Lieutenant-Colonel Breyman; who, after a gallant resistance, was
obliged to retreat on the main army. The British loss in these
two actions exceeded six hundred men: and a party of American
loyalists, on their way to join the army, having attached
themselves to Colonel Baum's corps, were destroyed with it.

Notwithstanding these reverses, which added greatly to the spirit

and numbers of the American forces, Burgoyne determined to
advance. It was impossible any longer to keep up his
communications with Canada by way of the lakes, so as to supply
his army on his southward march; but having by unremitting
exertions collected provisions for thirty days, he crossed the
Hudson by means of a bridge of rafts, and, marching a short
distance along its western bank, he encamped on the 14th of
September on the heights of Saratoga, about sixteen miles from
Albany. The Americans had fallen back from Saratoga, and were
now strongly posted near Stillwater, about half way between
Saratoga and Albany, and showed a determination to recede no
farther.

Meanwhile Lord Howe, with the bulk of the British army that had
lain at New York, had sailed away to the Delaware, and there
commenced a campaign against Washington, in which the English
general took Philadelphia, and gained other showy, but
unprofitable successes, But Sir Henry Clinton, a brave and
skilful officer, was left with a considerable force at New York;
and he undertook the task of moving up the Hudson to co-operate
with Burgoyne. Clinton was obliged for this purpose to wait for
reinforcements which had been promised from England, and these
did not arrive till September. As soon as he received them,
Clinton embarked about 3,000 of his men on a flotilla, convoyed
by some ships of war under Commander Hotham, and proceeded to
force his may up the river, but it was long before he was able to
open any communication with Burgoyne.

The country between Burgoyne's position at Saratoga and that of

the Americans at Stillwater was rugged, and seamed with creeks
and water-courses; but after great labour in making bridges and
temporary causeways, the British army moved forward. About four
miles from Saratoga, on the afternoon of the 19th of September, a
sharp encounter took place between part of the English right
wing, under Burgoyne himself, and a strong body of the enemy,
under Gates and Arnold. The conflict lasted till sunset. The
British remained masters of the field; but the loss on each side
was nearly equal (from five hundred to six hundred men); and the
spirits of the Americans were greatly raised by having withstood
the best regular troops of the English army. Burgoyne now halted
again, and strengthened his position by field-works and redoubts;
and the Americans also improved their defences. The two armies
remained nearly within cannon-shot of each other for a
considerable time, during which Burgoyne was anxiously looking
for intelligence of the promised expedition from New York, which,
according to the original plan, ought by this time to have been
approaching Albany from the south. At last, a messenger from
Clinton made his way, with great difficulty, to Burgoyne's camp,
and brought the information that Clinton was on his way up the
Hudson to attack the American forts which barred the passage up
that river to Albany. Burgoyne, in reply, on the 30th of
September, urged Clinton to attack the forts as speedily as
possible, stating that the effect of such an attack, or even the
semblance of it, would be to move the American army from its
position before his own troops. By another messenger, who
reached Clinton on the 5th of October, Burgoyne informed his
brother general that he had lost his communications with Canada,
but had provisions which would last him till the 20th. Burgoyne
described himself as strongly posted, and stated that though the
Americans in front of him were strongly posted also, he made no
doubt of being able to force them, and making his way to Albany;
but that he doubted whether he could subsist there, as the
country was drained of provisions. He wished Clinton to meet him
there, and to keep open a communication with New York. [See the
letters of General Clinton to General Harvey, published by Lord
Albemarle in his "Memoirs of the Marquis of Rockingham," vol. ii.
p. 335, ET SEQ.]

Burgoyne had over-estimated his resources, and in the very

beginning of October found difficulty and distress pressing him
hard.

The Indians and Canadians began to desert him; while, on the

other hand, Gates's army was continually reinforced by fresh
bodies of the militia. An expeditionary force was detached by
the Americans, which made a bold, though unsuccessful, attempt to
retake Ticonderoga. And finding the number and spirit of the
enemy to increase daily, and his own stores of provision to
diminish, Burgoyne determined on attacking the Americans in front
of him, and by dislodging them from their position, to gain the
means of moving upon Albany, or at least of relieving his troops
from the straitened position in which they were cooped up.

Burgoyne's force was now reduced to less than 6,000 men. The
right of his camp was on some high ground a little to the west of
the river; thence his entrenchments extended along the lower
ground to the bank of the Hudson, the line of their front being
nearly at a right angle with the course of the stream. The lines
were fortified with redoubts and field-works, and on a height on
the bank of the extreme right a strong redoubt was reared, and
entrenchments, in a horse-shoe form, thrown up. The Hessians,
under Colonel Breyman, were stationed here, forming a flank
defence to Burgoyne's main army. The numerical force of the
Americans was now greater than the British even in regular
troops, and the numbers of the militia and volunteers which had
joined Gates and Arnold were greater still.

General Lincoln with 2,000 New England troops, had reached the
American camp on the 29th of September. Gates gave him the
command of the right wing, and took in person the command of the
left wing, which was composed of two brigades under Generals Poor
and Leonard, of Colonel Morgan's rifle corps, and part of the
fresh New England Militia. The whole of the American lines had
been ably fortified under the direction of the celebrated Polish
general, Kosciusko, who was now serving as a volunteer in Gates's
army. The right of the American position, that is to say, the
part of it nearest to the river, was too strong to be assailed
with any prospect of success: and Burgoyne therefore determined
to endeavour to force their left. For this purpose he formed a
column of 1,500 regular troops, with two twelve-pounders, two
howitzers and six six-pounders. He headed this in person, having
Generals Phillips, Reidesel, and Fraser under him. The enemy's
force immediately in front of his lines was so strong that he
dared not weaken the troops who guarded them, by detaching any
more to strengthen his column of attack.

It was on the 7th of October that Burgoyne led his column

forward; and on the preceding day, the 6th, Clinton had
successfully executed a brilliant enterprise against the two
American forts which barred his progress up the Hudson. He had
captured them both, with severe loss to the American forces
opposed to him; he had destroyed the fleet which the Americans
had been forming on the Hudson, under the protection of their
forts; and the upward river was laid open to his squadron. He
had also, with admirable skill and industry, collected in small
vessels, such as could float within a few miles of Albany,
provisions sufficient to supply Burgoyne's Army for six months.
[See Clinton's letters in Lord Albemarle, p. 337.] He was now
only a hundred and fifty-six miles distant from Burgoyne; and a
detachment of 1,700 men actually advanced within forty miles of
Albany. Unfortunately Burgoyne and Clinton were each ignorant of
the other's movements; but if Burgoyne had won his battle on the
7th, he must on advancing have soon learned the tidings of
Clinton's success, and Clinton would have heard of his. A
junction would soon have been made of the two victorious armies,
and the great objects of the campaign might yet have been
accomplished. All depended on the fortune of the column with
which Burgoyne, on the eventful 7th of October, 1777, advanced
against the American position. There were brave men, both
English and German, in its ranks; and in particular it comprised
one of the best bodies of grenadiers in the British service. [I
am indebted for many of the details of the battle, to Mr
Lossing's "Field-book of the Revolution."]

Burgoyne pushed forward some bodies of irregular troops to

distract the enemy's attention; and led his column to within
three-quarters of a mile from the left of Gates's camp, and then
deployed his men into line. The grenadiers under Major Ackland,
and the artillery under Major Williams, were drawn up on the
left; a corps of Germans under General Reidesel, and some British
troops under General Phillips, were in the centre; and the
English light infantry, and the 24th regiment under Lord
Balcarres and General Fraser, were on the right. But Gates did
not wait to be attacked; and directly the British line was formed
and began to advance, the American general, with admirable skill,
caused General Poor's brigade of New York and New Hampshire
troops, and part of General Leonard's brigade, to make a sudden
and vehement rush against its left, and at the same time sent
Colonel Morgan, with his rifle corps and other troops, amounting
to 1,500, to turn the right of the English. The grenadiers under
Ackland sustained the charge of superior numbers nobly. But
Gates sent more Americans forward, and in a few minutes the
action became general along the centre, so as to prevent the
Germans from detaching any help to the grenadiers. Morgan, with
his riflemen, was now pressing Lord Balcarres and General Fraser
hard, and fresh masses of the enemy were observed advancing from
their extreme left, with the evident intention of forcing the
British right, and cutting off its retreat. The English light
infantry and the 24th now fell back, and formed an oblique second
line, which enabled them to baffle this manoeuvre, and also to
succour their comrades in the left wing, the gallant grenadiers,
who were overpowered by superior numbers, and, but for this aid,
must have been cut to pieces.

The contest now was fiercely maintained on both sides. The

English cannon were repeatedly taken and retaken; but when the
grenadiers near them were forced back by the weight of superior
numbers, one of the guns was permanently captured by the
Americans, and turned upon the English. Major Williams and Major
Ackland were both made prisoners, and in this part of the field
the advantage of the Americans was decided. The British centre
still held its ground; but now it was that the American general
Arnold appeared upon the scene, and did more for his countrymen
than whole battalions could have effected. Arnold, when the
decisive engagement of the 7th of October commenced, had been
deprived of his command by Gates, in consequence of a quarrel
between them about the action of the 19th of September. He had
listened for a short time in the American camp to the thunder of
the battle, in which he had no military right to take part,
either as commander or as combatant. But his excited spirit
could not long endure such a state of inaction. He called for
his horse, a powerful brown charger, and springing on it,
galloped furiously to where the fight seemed to be the thickest.
Gates saw him, and sent an aide-de-camp to recall him; but Arnold
spurred far in advance, and placed himself at the head of three
regiments which had formerly been under him, and which welcomed
their old commander with joyous cheers. He led them instantly
upon the British centre; and then galloping along the American
line, he issued orders for a renewed and a closer attack, which
were obeyed with alacrity, Arnold himself setting the example of
the most daring personal bravery, and charging more than once,
sword in hand, into the English ranks. On the British side the
officers did their duty nobly; but General Fraser was the most
eminent of them all, restoring order wherever the line began to
waver, and infusing fresh courage into his men by voice and
example. Mounted on an iron-grey charger, and dressed in the
full uniform of a general officer, he was conspicuous to foes as
well as to friends. The American Colonel Morgan thought that the
fate of the battle rested on this gallant man's life, and calling
several of his best marksman round him, pointed Fraser out, and
said: "That officer is General Fraser; I admire him, but he must
die. Our victory depends on it. Take your stations in that
clump of bushes, and do your duty." Within five minutes Fraser
fell mortally wounded, and was carried to the British camp by two
grenadiers. Just previously to his being struck by the fatal
bullet, one rifle-ball had cut the crupper of his saddle and
smother had passed through his horse's mane close behind the
ears. His aide-de-camp had noticed this, and said: "It is
evident that you are marked out for particular aim; would it not
be prudent; for you to retire from this place?" Fraser replied:
"My duty forbids me to fly from danger;" and the next moment he
fell. [Lossing.]

Burgoyne's whole force was now compelled to retreat towards their

camp; the left and centre were in complete disorder, but the
light infantry and the 24th checked the fury of the assailants,
and the remains of the column with great difficulty effected
their return to their camp; leaving six of their cannons in the
possession of the enemy, and great numbers of killed and wounded
on the field; and especially a large proportion of the
artillerymen, who had stood to their guns until shot down or
bayoneted beside them by the advancing Americans.

Burgoyne's column had been defeated, but the action was not yet
over. The English had scarcely entered the camp, when the
Americans, pursuing their success, assaulted it in several places
with remarkable impetuosity, rushing in upon the intrenchments
and redoubts through a severe fire of grape-shot and musketry.
Arnold especially, who on this day appeared maddened with the
thirst of combat and carnage, urged on the attack against a part
of the intrenchments which was occupied by the light infantry
under Lord Balcarres. [Botta's American War, book viii.] But
the English received him with vigour and spirit. The struggle
here was obstinate and sanguinary. At length, as it grew towards
evening, Arnold, having forced all obstacles, entered the works
with some of the most fearless of his followers. But in this
critical moment of glory and danger, he received a painful wound
in the same leg which had already been injured at the assault on
Quebec. To his bitter regret he was obliged to be carried back.
His party still continued the attack, but the English also
continued their obstinate resistance, and at last night fell, and
the assailants withdrew from this quarter of the British
intrenchments. But, in another part the attack had been more
successful. A body of the Americans, under Colonel Brooke,
forced their way in through a part of the horse-shoe
intrenchments on the extreme right, which was defended by the
Hessian reserve under Colonel Breyman. The Germans resisted
well, and Breyman died in defence of his post; but the Americans
made good the ground which they had won, and captured baggage,
tents, artillery, and a store of ammunition, which they were
greatly in need of. They had by establishing themselves on this
point, acquired the means of completely turning the right flank
of the British, and gaining their rear. To prevent this
calamity, Burgoyne effected during the night an entire change of
position. With great skill he removed his whole army to some
heights near the river, a little northward of the former camp,
and he there drew up his men, expecting to be attacked on the
following day. But Gates was resolved not to risk the certain
triumph which his success had already secured for him. He
harassed the English with skirmishes, but attempted no regular
attack. Meanwhile he detached bodies of troops on both sides of
the Hudson to prevent the British from recrossing that river, and
to bar their retreat. When night fell, it became absolutely
necessary for Burgoyne to retire again, and, accordingly, the
troops were marched through a stormy and rainy night towards
Saratoga, abandoning their sick and wounded, and the greater part
of their baggage to the enemy.

Before the rear-guard quitted the camp, the last sad honours were
paid to the brave General Fraser, who expired on the day after
the action.

He had, almost with his last breath, expressed a wish to be

buried in the redoubt which had formed the part of the British
lines where he had been stationed, but which had now been
abandoned by the English, and was within full range of the cannon
which the advancing Americans were rapidly placing in position to
bear upon Burgoyne's force. Burgoyne resolved, nevertheless, to
comply with the dying wish of his comrade; and the interment took
place under circumstances the most affecting that have ever
marked a soldier's funeral. Still more interesting is the
narrative of Lady Ackland's passage from the British to the
American camp, after the battle, to share the captivity and
alleviate the sufferings of her husband who had been severely
wounded, and left in the enemy's power. The American historian,
Lossing, has described both these touching episodes of the
campaign, in a spirit that does honour to the writer as well as
to his subject. After narrating the death of General Fraser on
the 8th of October, he says that "It was just at sunset, on that
calm October evening, that the corpse of General Fraser was
carried up the hill to the place of burial within the 'great
redoubt.' It was attended only by the military members of his
family and Mr. Brudenell, the chaplain; yet the eyes of hundreds
of both armies followed the solemn procession, while the
Americans, ignorant of its true character, kept up a constant
cannonade upon the redoubt. The chaplain, unawed by the danger
to which he was exposed, as the cannon-balls that struck the hill
threw the loose soil over him, pronounced the impressive funeral
service of the Church of England with an unfaltering voice. The
growing darkness added solemnity to the scene. Suddenly the
irregular firing ceased, and the solemn voice of a single cannon,
at measured intervals, boomed along the valley, and awakened the
responses of the hills. It was a minute gun fired by the
Americans in honour of the gallant dead. The moment the
information was given that the gathering at the redoubt was a
funeral company, fulfilling, at imminent peril, the last-breathed
wishes of the noble Fraser, orders were issued to withhold the
cannonade with balls, and to render military homage to the fallen
brave.

"The case of Major Ackland and his heroic wife presents kindred
features. He belonged to the grenadiers, and was an accomplished
soldier. His wife accompanied him to Canada in 1776; and during
the whole campaign of that year, and until his return to England
after the surrender of Burgoyne, in the autumn of 1777, endured
all the hardships, dangers, and privations of an active campaign
in an enemy's country. At Chambly, on the Sorel, she attended
him in illness, in a miserable hut; and when he was wounded in
the battle of Hubbardton, Vermont she hastened to him at
Henesborough from Montreal, where she had been persuaded to
remain, and resolved to follow the army hereafter. Just before
crossing the Hudson, she and her husband had had a narrow escape
from losing their lives in consequence of their tent accidentally
taking fire.

"During the terrible engagement of the 7th October, she heard all
the tumult and dreadful thunder of the battle in which her
husband was engaged; and when, on the morning of the 8th, the
British fell back in confusion to their new position, she, with
the other women, was obliged to take refuge among the dead and
dying; for the tents were all struck, and hardly a shed was left
standing. Her husband was wounded, and a prisoner in the
American camp. That gallant officer was shot through both legs.
When Poor and Learned's troops assaulted the grenadiers and
artillery on the British left, on the afternoon of the 7th,
Wilkinson, Gates's adjutant-general, while pursuing the flying
enemy when they abandoned their battery, heard a feeble voice
exclaim 'Protect me, sir, against that boy.' He turned and saw
a lad with a musket taking deliberate aim at a wounded British
officer, lying in a corner of a low fence. Wilkinson ordered the
boy to desist, and discovered the wounded man to be Major
Ackland. He had him conveyed to the quarters of General Poor
(now the residence of Mr. Neilson) on the heights, where every
attention was paid to his wants.

"When the intelligence that he was wounded and a prisoner reached

his wife, she was greatly distressed, and, by the advice of her
friend, Baron Reidesel, resolved to visit the American camp, and
implore the favour of a personal attendance upon her husband. On
the 9th she sent a message to Burgoyne by Lord Petersham, his
aide-de-camp, asking permission to depart. 'Though I was ready
to believe,' says Burgoyne, 'that patience and fortitude, in a
supreme degree, were to be found, as well as every other virtue,
under the most tender forms, I was astonished at this proposal.
After so long an agitation of spirits, exhausted not only for
want of rest, but absolutely want of food, drenched in rain for
twelve hours together, that a woman should be capable of such an
undertaking as delivering herself to an enemy, probably in the
night, and uncertain of what hands she might fall into, appeared
an effort above human nature. The assistance I was able to give
was small indeed. I had not even a cup of wine to offer her.
All I could furnish her with was an open boat, and a few lines,
written upon dirty wet paper, to General Gates, recommending her
to his protection.' The following is a copy of the note sent by
Burgoyne to General Gates:--'Sir,--Lady Harriet Ackland, a lady
of the first distinction of family, rank, and personal virtues,
is under such concern on account of Major Ackland, her husband,
wounded and a prisoner in your hands, that I cannot refuse her
request to commit her to your protection. Whatever general
impropriety there may be in persons of my situation and yours to
solicit favours, I cannot see the uncommon perseverance in every
female grace, and the exaltation of character of this lady, and
her very hard fortune, without testifying that your attentions to
her will lay me under obligations. I am, sir, your obedient
servant, J. Burgoyne.' She set out in an open boat upon the
Hudson, accompanied by Mr. Brudenell, the chaplain, Sarah
Pollard, her waiting maid, and her husband's valet, who had been
severely wounded while searching for his master upon the battle-
field. It was about sunset when they started, and a violent
storm of rain and wind, which had been increasing since the
morning, rendered the voyage tedious and perilous in the extreme.
It was long after dark when they reached the American out-posts;
the sentinel heard their oars, and hailed them, Lady Harriet
returned the answer herself. The clear, silvery tones of a
woman's voice amid the darkness, filled the soldier on duty with
superstitious fear, and he called a comrade to accompany him to
the river bank. The errand of the voyagers was made known, but
the faithful guard, apprehensive of treachery, would not allow
them to laud until they sent for Major Dearborn. They were
invited by that officer to his quarters, where every attention
was paid to them, and Lady Harriet was comforted by the joyful
tidings that her husband was safe. In the morning she
experienced parental tenderness from General Gates who sent her
to her husband, at Poor's quarters, under a suitable escort.
There she remained until he was removed to Albany."

Burgoyne now took up his last position on the heights near

Saratoga; and hemmed in by the enemy, who refused any encounter,
and baffled in all his attempts at finding a path of escape, he
there lingered until famine compelled him to capitulate. The
fortitude of the British army during this melancholy period has
been justly eulogised by many native historians, but I prefer
quoting the testimony of a foreign writer, as free from all
possibility of partiality. Botta says: [Botta, book viii.]

"It exceeds the power of words to describe the pitiable condition

to which the British army was now reduced. The troops were worn
down by a series of toil, privation, sickness, and desperate
fighting. They were abandoned by the Indians and Canadians; and
the effective force of the whole army was now diminished by
repeated and heavy losses, which had principally fallen on the
best soldiers and the most distinguished officers, from ten
thousand combatants to less than one-half that number. Of this
remnant little more than three thousand were English.

"In these circumstances, and thus weakened, they were invested by

an army of four times their own number, whose position extended
three parts of a circle round them; who refused to fight them, as
knowing their weakness, and who, from the nature of the ground,
could not be attacked in any part. In this helpless condition,
obliged to be constantly under arms, while the enemy's cannon
played on every part of their camp, and even the American rifle-
balls whistled in many parts of the lines, the troops of Burgoyne
retained their customary firmness, and, while sinking under a
hard necessity, they showed themselves worthy of a better fate.
They could not be reproached with an action or a word, which
betrayed a want of temper or of fortitude."

At length the 13th of October arrived, and as no prospect of

assistance appeared, and the provisions were nearly exhausted,
Burgoyne, by the unanimous advice of a council of war, sent a
messenger to the American camp to treat of a convention.

General Gates in the first instance demanded that the royal army
should surrender prisoners of war. He also proposed that the
British should ground their arms. Burgoyne replied, "This
article is inadmissible in every extremity; sooner than this army
will consent to ground their arms in their encampment, they will
rush on the enemy, determined to take no quarter." After various
messages, a convention for the surrender of the army was settled,
which provided that "The troops under General Burgoyne were to
march out of their camp with the honours of war, and the
artillery of the intrenchments, to the verge of the river, where
the arms and artillery were to be left. The arms to be piled by
word of command from their own officers. A free passage was to
be granted to the army under Lieutenant-General Burgoyne to Great
Britain, upon condition of not serving again in North America
during the present contest."

The articles of capitulation were settled on the 15th of October:

and on that very evening a messenger arrived from Clinton with an
account of his successes, and with the tidings that part of his
force had penetrated as far as Esopus, within fifty miles of
Burgoyne's camp. But it was too late. The public faith was
pledged; and the army was, indeed, too debilitated by fatigue and
hunger to resist an attack if made; and Gates certainly would
have made it, if the convention had been broken off.
Accordingly, on the 17th, the convention of Saratoga was carried
into effect. By this convention 5,790 men surrendered themselves
as prisoners. The sick and wounded left in the camp when the
British retreated to Saratoga, together with the numbers of the
British, German, and Canadian troops, who were killed, wounded,
or taken, and who had deserted in the preceding part of the
expedition, were reckoned to be 4,689.

The British sick and wounded who had fallen into the hands of the
Americans after the battle of the 7th, were treated with
exemplary humanity; and when the convention was executed, General
Gates showed a noble delicacy of feeling which deserves the
highest degree of honour. Every circumstance was avoided which
could give the appearance of triumph. The American troops
remained within their lines until the British had piled their
arms; and when this was done, the vanquished officers and
soldiers were received with friendly kindness by their victors,
and their immediate wants were promptly and liberally supplied.
Discussions and disputes afterwards arose as to some of the terms
of the convention; and the American Congress refused for a long
time to carry into effect the article which provided for the
return of Burgoyne's men to Europe; but no blame was imputable to
General Gates or his army, who showed themselves to be generous
as they had proved themselves to be brave.

Gates after the victory, immediately despatched Colonel Wilkinson

to carry the happy tidings to Congress. On being introduced into
the hall, he said, "The whole British army has laid down its arms
at Saratoga; our own, full of vigour and courage, expect your
order. It is for your wisdom to decide where the country may
still have need for their service." Honours and rewards were
liberally voted by the Congress to their conquering general and
his men; "and it would be difficult" (says the Italian historian)
"to describe the transports of joy which the news of this event
excited among the Americans. They began to flatter themselves
with a still more happy future. No one any longer felt any doubt
about their achieving their independence. All hoped, and with
good reason, that a success of this importance would at length
determine France, and the other European powers that waited for
her example, to declare themselves in favour of America. THERE
COULD NO LONGER BE ANY QUESTION RESPECTING THE FUTURE; SINCE
THERE WAS NO LONGER THE RISK OF ESPOUSING THE CAUSE OF A PEOPLE
TOO FEEBLE TO DEFEND THEMSELVES."

The truth of this was soon displayed in the conduct of France.

When the news arrived at Paris of the capture of Ticonderoga, and
of the victorious march of Burgoyne towards Albany, events which
seemed decisive in favour of the English, instructions had been
immediately despatched to Nantz, and the other ports of the
kingdom, that no American privateers should be suffered to enter
them, except from indispensable necessity, as to repair their
vessels, to obtain provisions, or to escape the perils of the
sea. The American commissioners at Paris, in their disgust and
despair, had almost broken off all negotiations with the French
government; and they even endeavoured to open communications with
the British ministry. But the British government, elated with
the first successes of Burgoyne, refused to listen to any
overtures for accommodation. But when the news of Saratoga
reached Paris, the whole scene was changed. Franklin and his
brother commissioners found all their difficulties with the
French government vanish. The time seemed to have arrived for
the House of Bourbon to take a full revenge for all its
humiliations and losses in previous wars. In December a treaty
was arranged, and formally signed in the February following, by
which France acknowledged the INDEPENDENT UNITED STATES OF
AMERICA. This was, of course, tantamount to a declaration of war
with England. Spain soon followed France; and before long
Holland took the same course. Largely aided by French fleets and
troops, the Americans vigorously maintained the war against the
armies which England, in spite of her European foes, continued to
send across the Atlantic. But the struggle was too unequal to be
maintained by this country for many years: and when the treaties
of 1783 restored peace to the world, the independence of the
United States was reluctantly recognized by their ancient parent
and recent enemy, England.

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS BETWEEN THE DEFEAT OF BURGOYNE AT SARATOGA,

1777, AND THE BATTLE OF VALMY, 1792.

A.D. 1781. Surrender of Lord Cornwallis and the British army to

Washington.

1782. Rodney's victory over the Spanish fleet. Unsuccessful

siege of Gibraltar by the Spaniards and French.

1783. End of the American war.

1788. The States-General are convened in France:--beginning of

the Revolution.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE BATTLE OF VALMY.

"Purpurei metuunt tyranni

Injurioso ne pede proruas
Stantem columnam; neu populus frequens
Ad arma cessantes ad arma
Concitet, imperiumque frangat."
HORAT. Od. i 35.

"A little fire is quickly trodden out,

Which, being suffered, rivers cannot quench."
SHAKESPEARE.

A few miles distant from the little town of St. Menehould, in the
north-east of France, are the village and hill of Valmy; and near
the crest of that hill, a simple monument points out the burial-
place of the heart of a general of the French republic, and a
marshal of the French empire.

The elder Kellerman (father of the distinguished officer of that

name, whose cavalry-charge decided the battle of Marengo) held
high commands in the French armies throughout the wars of the
Convention, the Directory, the Consulate, and the Empire. He
survived those wars, and the empire itself, dying in extreme old
age in 1820. The last wish of the veteran on his death bed was
that his heart should be deposited in the battle-field of Valmy,
there to repose among the remains of his old companions in arms,
who had fallen at his side on that spot twenty-eight years
before, on the memorable day when they won the primal victory of
revolutionary France, and prevented the armies of Brunswick and
the emigrant bands of Conde from marching on defenceless Paris,
and destroying the immature democracy in its cradle.

The Duke of Valmy (for Kellerman, when made one of Napoleon's

military peers in 1802, took his title from this same
battlefield) had participated, during his long and active career,
in the gaining of many a victory far more immediately dazzling
than the the one, the remembrance of which he thus cherished. He
had been present at many a scene of carnage, where blood flowed
in deluges, compared with which the libations of slaughter poured
out at Valmy would have seemed scant and insignificant. But he
rightly estimated the paramount importance of the battle with
which he thus wished his appellation while living, and his memory
after his death, to be identified. The successful resistance,
which the new Carmagnole levies, and the disorganized relics of
the old monarchy's army, then opposed to the combined hosts and
chosen leaders of Prussia, Austria, and the French refugee
noblesse, determined at once and for ever the belligerent
character of the revolution. The raw artisans and tradesmen, the
clumsy burghers, the base mechanics and low peasant churls, as it
had been the fashion to term the middle and lower classes in
France, found that they could face cannon-balls, pull triggers,
and cross bayonets, without having been drilled into military
machines, and without being officered by scions of noble houses.
They awoke to the consciousness of their own instinctive
soldiership. They at once acquired confidence in themselves and
in each other; and that confidence soon grew into a spirit of
unbounded audacity and ambition. "From the cannonade of Valmy
may be dated the commencement of that career of victory which
carried their armies to Vienna and the Kremlin." [Alison.]

One of the gravest reflections that arises from the contemplation

of the civil restlessness and military enthusiasm which the close
of the last century saw nationalised in France, is the
consideration that these disturbing influences have become
perpetual. No settled system of government, that shall endure
from generation to generation, that shall be proof against
corruption and popular violence, seems capable of taking root
among the French. And every revolutionary movement in Paris
thrills throughout the rest of the world. Even the successes
which the powers allied against France gained in 1814 and 1815,
important as they were, could not annul the effects of the
preceding twenty-three years of general convulsion and war.

In 1830, the dynasty which foreign bayonets had imposed on France

was shaken off; and men trembled at the expected outbreak of
French anarchy and the dreaded inroads of French ambition. They
"looked forward with harassing anxiety to a period of destruction
similar to that which the Roman world experienced about the
middle of the third century of our era." [See Niebuhr's Preface
to the second volume of the "History of Rome," written in October
1830.] Louis Philippe cajoled revolution, and then strove with
seeming success to stifle it. But in spite of Fieschi laws, in
spite of the dazzle of Algerian razzias and Pyrenees-effacing
marriages, in spite of hundreds of armed forts, and hundreds of
thousands of coercing troops, Revolution lived, and struggled to
get free. The old Titan spirit heaved restlessly beneath "the
monarchy based on republican institutions." At last, four years
ago, the whole fabric of kingcraft was at once rent and scattered
to the winds, by the uprising of the Parisian democracy; and
insurrections, barricades and dethronements, the downfall of
coronets and crowns, the armed collisions of parties, systems,
and populations, became the commonplaces of recent European
history.

France now calls herself a republic. She first assumed that

title on the 20th of September, 1792, on the very day on which
the battle of Valmy was fought and won. To that battle the
democratic spirit which in 1848, as well as in 1792, proclaimed
the Republic in Paris, owed its preservation, and it is thence
that the imperishable activity of its principles may be dated.

Far different seemed the prospects of democracy in Europe on the

eve of that battle; and far different would have been the present
position and influence of the French nation, if Brunswick's
columns had charged with more boldness, or the lines of Dumouriez
resisted with less firmness. When France, in 1792, declared war
with the great powers of Europe, she was far from possessing that
splendid military organization which the experience of a few
revolutionary campaigns taught her to assume, and which she has
never abandoned. The army of the old monarchy had, during the
latter part of the reign of Louis XV. sunk into gradual decay,
both in numerical force, and in efficiency of equipment and
spirit. The laurels gained by the auxiliary regiments which
Louis XVI. sent to the American war, did but little to restore
the general tone of the army. The insubordination and licence,
which the revolt of the French guards, and the participation of
other troops in many of the first excesses of the Revolution
introduced among the soldiery, were soon rapidly disseminated
through all the ranks. Under the Legislative Assembly every
complaint of the soldier against his officer, however frivolous
or ill-founded, was listened to with eagerness, and investigated
with partiality, on the principles of liberty and equality.
Discipline accordingly became more and more relaxed; and the
dissolution of several of the old corps, under the pretext of
their being tainted with an aristocratic feeling, aggravated the
confusion and inefficiency of the war department. Many of the
most effective regiments during the last period of the monarchy
had consisted of foreigners. These had either been slaughtered
in defence of the throne against insurrections, like the Swiss;
or had been disbanded, and had crossed the frontier to recruit
the forces which were assembling for the invasion of France.
Above all, the emigration of the noblesse had stripped the French
army of nearly all its officers of high rank, and of the
greatest portion of its subalterns. More than twelve thousand of
the high-born youth of France, who had been trained to regard
military command as their exclusive patrimony, and to whom the
nation had been accustomed to look up as its natural guides and
champions in the storm of war; were now marshalled beneath the
banner of Conde and the other emigrant princes, for the overthrow
of the French armies, and the reduction of the French capital.
Their successors in the French regiments and brigades had as yet
acquired neither skill nor experience: they possessed neither
self-reliance nor the respect of the men who were under them.

Such was the state of the wrecks of the old army; but the bulk of
the forces with which France began the war, consisted of raw
insurrectionary levies, which were even less to be depended on.
The Carmagnoles, as the revolutionary volunteers were called,
flocked, indeed, readily to the frontier from every department
when the war was proclaimed, and the fierce leaders of the
Jacobins shouted that the country was in danger. They were full
of zeal and courage, "heated and excited by the scenes of the
Revolution, and inflamed by the florid eloquence, the songs,
dances, and signal-words with which it had been celebrated."
[Scott, Life of Napoleon, vol. i c. viii.] But they were utterly
undisciplined, and turbulently impatient of superior authority,
or systematical control. Many ruffians, also, who were sullied
with participation in the most sanguinary horrors of Paris,
joined the camps, and were pre-eminent alike for misconduct
before the enemy and for savage insubordination against their own
officers. On one occasion during the campaign of Valmy, eight
battalions of federates, intoxicated with massacre and sedition,
joined the forces under Dumouriez, and soon threatened to uproot
all discipline, saying openly that the ancient officers were
traitors, and that it was necessary to purge the army, as they
had Paris, of its aristocrats. Dumouriez posted these battalions
apart from the others, placed a strong force of cavalry behind
them, and two pieces of cannon on their flank. Then, affecting
to review them, he halted at the head of the line, surrounded by
all his staff, and an escort of a hundred hussars. "Fellows,"
said he, "for I will not call you either citizens or soldiers,
you see before you this artillery, behind you this cavalry; you
are stained with crimes, and I do not tolerate here assassins or
executioners. I know that there are scoundrels amongst you
charged to excite you to crime. Drive them from amongst you, or
denounce them to me, for I shall hold you responsible for their
conduct." [Lamartine.]

One of our recent historians of the Revolution, who narrates this

incident, [Carlyle.] thus apostrophises the French general:--

"Patience, O Dumouriez! This uncertain heap of shriekers,

mutineers, were they once drilled and inured, will become a
phalanxed mass of fighters; and wheel and whirl to order swiftly,
like the wind or the whirlwind; tanned mustachio-figures; often
barefoot, even barebacked, with sinews of iron; who require only
bread and gunpowder; very sons of fire; the adroitest, hastiest,
hottest, ever seen perhaps since Attila's time."

Such phalanxed masses of fighters did the Carmagnoles ultimately

become; but France ran a fearful risk in being obliged to rely on
them when the process of their transmutation had barely
commenced.

The first events, indeed, of the war were disastrous and

disgraceful to France, even beyond what might have been expected
from the chaotic state in which it found her armies as well as
her government. In the hopes of profiting by the unprepared
state of Austria, then the mistress of the Netherlands, the
French opened the campaign of 1792 by an invasion of Flanders,
with forces whose muster-rolls showed a numerical overwhelming
superiority to the enemy, and seemed to promise a speedy conquest
of that old battle-field of Europe. But the first flash of an
Austrian sabre, or the first sound of Austrian gun, was enough to
discomfit the French. Their first corps, four thousand strong,
that advanced from Lille across the frontier, came suddenly upon
a far inferior detachment of the Austrian garrison of Tournay.
Not a shot was fired, not a bayonet levelled. With one
simultaneous cry of panic the French broke and ran headlong back
to Lille, where they completed the specimen of insubordination
which they had given in the field, by murdering their general and
several of their chief officers. On the same day, another
division under Biron, mustering ten thousand sabres and bayonets,
saw a few Austrian skirmishers reconnoitering their position.
The French advanced posts had scarcely given and received a
volley, and only a few balls from the enemy's field-pieces had
fallen among the lines, when two regiments of French dragoons
raised the cry, "We are betrayed," galloped off, and were
followed in disgraceful rout by the rest of the whole army.
Similar panics, or repulses almost equally discreditable,
occurred whenever Rochambeau, or Luckner, or La Fayette, the
earliest French generals in the war, brought their troops into
the presence of the enemy.

Meanwhile, the allied sovereigns had gradually collected on the

Rhine a veteran and finely-disciplined army for the invasion of
France, which for numbers, equipment, and martial renown, both of
generals and men, was equal to any that Germany had ever sent
forth to conquer. Their design was to strike boldly and
decisively at the heart of France, and penetrating the country
through the Ardennes, to proceed by Chalons upon Paris. The
obstacles that lay in their way seemed insignificant. The
disorder and imbecility of the French armies had been even
augmented by the forced flight of La Fayette, and a sudden change
of generals. The only troops posted on or near the track by
which the allies were about to advance, were the twenty-three
thousand men at Sedan, whom La Fayette had commanded, and a corps
of twenty thousand near Metz, the command of which had just been
transferred from Luckner to Kellerman. There were only three
fortresses which it was necessary for the allies to capture or
mask--Sedan, Longwy, and Verdun. The defences and stores of
these three were known to be wretchedly dismantled and
insufficient; and when once these feeble barriers were overcome,
and Chalons reached, a fertile and unprotected country seemed to
invite the invaders to that "military promenade to Paris," which
they gaily talked of accomplishing.

At the end of July the allied army, having completed all

preparations for the campaign, broke up from its cantonments, and
marching from Luxembourg upon Longwy, crossed the French
frontier. Eighty thousand Prussians, trained in the school, and
many of them under the eye of the Great Frederick, heirs of the
glories of the Seven Years' War, and universally esteemed the
best troops in Europe, marched in one column against the central
point of attack. Forty-five thousand Austrians, the greater part
of whom were picked troops, and had served in the recent Turkish
war, supplied two formidable corps that supported the flanks of
the Prussians. There was also a powerful body of Hessians, and
leagued with the Germans against the Parisian democracy, came
fifteen thousand of the noblest and bravest amongst the sons of
France. In these corps of emigrants, many of the highest born of
the French nobility, scions of houses whose chivalric trophies
had for centuries filled Europe with renown, served as rank and
file. They looked on the road to Paris as the path which they
were to carve out by their swords to victory, to honour, to the
rescue of their king, to reunion with their families, to the
recovery of their patrimony, and to the restoration of their
order. [See Scott, Life of Napoleon, vol. i. c. xi.]

Over this imposing army the allied sovereigns placed as

generalissimo the Duke of Brunswick, one of the minor reigning
princes of Germany, a statesman of no mean capacity, and who had
acquired in the Seven Years' War, a military reputation second
only to that of the Great Frederick himself. He had been deputed
a few years before to quell the popular movements which then took
place in Holland; and he had put down the attempted revolution in
that country with a promptitude and completeness, which appeared
to augur equal success to the army that now marched under his
orders on a similar mission into France.

Moving majestically forward, with leisurely deliberation, that

seemed to show the consciousness of superior strength, and a
steady purpose of doing their work thoroughly, the Allies
appeared before Longwy on the 20th of August, and the dispirited
and dependent garrison opened the gates of that fortress to them
after the first shower of bombs. On the 2d of September the
still more important stronghold of Verdun capitulated after
scarcely the shadow of resistance.

Brunswick's superior force was now interposed between Kellerman's

troops on the left, and the other French army near Sedan, which
La Fayette's flight had, for the time, left destitute of a
commander. It was in the power of the German general, by
striking with an overwhelming mass to the right and left, to
crush in succession each of these weak armies, and the allies
might then have marched irresistible and unresisted upon Paris.
But at this crisis Dumouriez, the new commander-in-chief of the
French, arrived at the camp near Sedan, and commenced a series of
movements, by which he reunited the dispersed and disorganized
forces of his country, checked the Prussian columns at the very
moment when the last obstacles of their triumph seemed to have
given way, and finally rolled back the tide of invasion far
across the enemy's frontier.

The French fortresses had fallen; but nature herself still

offered to brave and vigorous defenders of the land, the means of
opposing a barrier to the progress of the Allies. A ridge of
broken ground, called the Argonne, extends from the vicinity of
Sedan towards the south-west for about fifteen or sixteen
leagues, The country of L'Argonne has now been cleared and
drained; but in 1792 it was thickly wooded, and the lower
portions of its unequal surface were filled with rivulets and
marshes. It thus presented a natural barrier of from four to
five leagues broad, which was absolutely impenetrable to an army,
except by a few defiles, such as an inferior force might easily
fortify and defend. Dumouriez succeeded in marching his army
down from Sedan behind the Argonne, and in occupying its passes,
while the Prussians still lingered on the north-eastern side of
the forest line. Ordering Kellerman to wheel round from Metz to
St. Menehould, and the reinforcements from the interior and
extreme north also to concentrate at that spot, Dumouriez trusted
to assemble a powerful force in the rear of the south-west
extremity of the Argonne, while, with the twenty-five thousand
men under his immediate command, he held the enemy at bay before
the passes, or forced him to a long circumvolution round one
extremity of the forest ridge, during which, favourable
opportunities of assailing his flank were almost certain to
occur. Dumouriez fortified the principal defiles, and boasted of
the Thermopylae which he had found for the invaders; but the
simile was nearly rendered fatally complete for the defending
force. A pass, which was thought of inferior importance, had
been but slightly manned, and an Austrian corps under Clairfayt,
forced it after some sharp fighting. Dumouriez with great
difficulty saved himself from being enveloped and destroyed by
the hostile columns that now pushed through the forest. But
instead of despairing at the failure of his plans, and falling
back into the interior, to be completely severed from Kellerman's
army, to be hunted as a fugitive under the walls of Paris by the
victorious Germans, and to lose all chance of ever rallying his
dispirited troops, he resolved to cling to the difficult country
in which the armies still were grouped, to force a junction with
Kellerman, and so to place himself at the head of a force, which
the invaders would not dare to disregard, and by which he might
drag them back from the advance on Paris, which he had not been
able to bar. Accordingly, by a rapid movement to the south,
during which, in his own words, "France was within a hair's-
breadth of destruction," and after, with difficulty, checking
several panics of his troops in which they ran by thousands at
the sight of a few Prussian hussars, Dumouriez succeeded in
establishing his head-quarters in a strong position at St.
Menehould, protected by the marshes and shallows of the river
Aisne and Aube, beyond which, to the north-west, rose a firm and
elevated plateau, called Dampierre's Camp, admirably situated for
commanding the road by Chalons to Paris, and where he intended to
post Kellerman's army so soon as it came up. [Some late writers
represent that Brunswick did not wish to check Dumouriez. There
is no sufficient authority for this insinuation, which seems to
have been first prompted by a desire to soothe the wounded
military pride of the Prussians.]

The news of the retreat of Dumouriez from the Argonne passes, and
of the panic flight of some divisions of his troops, spread
rapidly throughout the country; and Kellerman, who believed that
his comrade's army had been annihilated, and feared to fall among
the victorious masses of the Prussians, had halted on his march
from Metz when almost close to St. Menehould. He had actually
commenced a retrograde movement, when couriers from his
commander-in-chief checked him from that fatal course; and then
continuing to wheel round the rear and left flank of the troops
at St. Menehould, Kellerman, with twenty thousand of the army of
Metz, and some thousands of volunteers who had joined him in the
march, made his appearance to the west of Dumouriez, on the very
evening when Westerman and Thouvenot, two of the staff-officers
of Dumouriez, galloped in with the tidings that Brunswick's army
had come through the upper passes of the Argonne in full force,
and was deploying on the heights of La Lune, a chain of eminences
that stretch obliquely from south-west to north-east opposite the
high ground which Dumouriez held, and also opposite, but at a
shorter distance from, the position which Kellerman was designed
to occupy.
The Allies were now, in fact, nearer to Paris than were the
French troops themselves; but, as Dumouriez had foreseen,
Brunswick deemed it unsafe to march upon the capital with so
large a hostile force left in his rear between his advancing
columns and his base of operations. The young King of Prussia,
who was in the allied camp, and the emigrant princes, eagerly
advocated an instant attack upon the nearest French general.
Kellerman had laid himself unnecessarily open, by advancing
beyond Dampierre's Camp, which Dumouriez had designed for him,
and moving forward across the Aube to the plateau of Valmy, a
post inferior in strength and space to that which he had left,
and which brought him close upon the Prussian lines, leaving him
separated by a dangerous interval from the troops under Dumouriez
himself. It seemed easy for the Prussian army to overwhelm him
while thus isolated, and then they might surround and crush
Dumouriez at their leisure.

Accordingly, the right wing of the allied army moved forward, in

the grey of the morning of the 20th of September, to gain
Kellerman's left flank and rear, and cut him off from retreat
upon Chalons, while the rest of the army, moving from the heights
of La Lune, which here converge semi-circularly round the plateau
of Valmy, were to assail his position in front, and interpose
between him and Dumouriez. An unexpected collision between some
of the advanced cavalry on each side in the low ground, warned
Kellerman of the enemy's approach. Dumouriez had not been
unobservant of the danger of his comrade, thus isolated and
involved; and he had ordered up troops to support Kellerman on
either flank in the event of his being attacked. These troops,
however, moved forward slowly; and Kellerman's army, ranged on
the plateau of Valmy, "projected like a cape into the midst of
the lines of the Prussian bayonets." [See Lamartine, Hist.
Girond. livre xvii. I have drawn much of the ensuing description
from him.] A thick autumnal mist floated in waves of vapour over
the plains and ravines that lay between the two armies, leaving
only the crests and peaks of the hills glittering in the early
light. About ten o'clock the fog began to clear off, and then
the French from their promontory saw emerging from the white
wreaths of mist, and glittering in the sunshine, the countless
Prussian cavalry which were to envelops them as in a net if once
driven from their position, the solid columns of the infantry
that moved forward as if animated by a single will, the bristling
batteries of the artillery, and the glancing clouds of the
Austrian light troops, fresh from their contests with the Spahis
of the east.

The best and bravest of the French must have beheld this
spectacle with secret apprehension and awe. However bold and
resolute a man may be in the discharge of duty, it is an anxious
and fearful thing to be called on to encounter danger among
comrades of whose steadiness you can feel no certainty. Each
soldier of Kellerman's army must have remembered the series of
panic routs which had hitherto invariably taken place on the
French side during the war; and must have cast restless glances
to the right and left, to see if any symptoms of wavering began
to show themselves, and to calculate how long it was likely to be
before a general rush of his comrades to the rear would either
harry him off with involuntary disgrace, or leave him alone and
helpless, to be cut down by assailing multitudes.

On that very morning, and at the self-same hour, in which the

allied forces and the emigrants began to descend from La Lune to
the attack of Valmy, and while the cannonade was opening between
the Prussian and the Revolutionary batteries, the debate in the
National Convention at Paris commenced on the proposal to
proclaim France a Republic.

The old monarchy had little chance of support in the hall of the
Convention; but if its more effective advocates at Valmy had
triumphed, there were yet the elements existing in France for a
permanent revival of the better part of the ancient institutions,
and for substituting Reform for Revolution. Only a few weeks
before, numerously signed addresses from the middle classes in
Paris, Rouen, and other large cities, had been presented to the
king, expressive of their horror of the anarchists, and their
readiness to uphold the rights of the crown, together with the
liberties of the subject. And an armed resistance to the
authority of the Convention, and in favour of the king, was in
reality at this time being actively organized in La Vendee and
Brittany, the importance of which may be estimated from the
formidable opposition which the Royalists of these provinces made
to the Republican party, at a later period, and under much more
disadvantageous circumstances. It is a fact peculiarly
illustrative of the importance of the battle of Valmy, that
"during the summer of 1792, the gentlemen of Brittany entered
into an extensive association for the purpose of rescuing the
country from the oppressive yoke which had been imposed by the
Parisian demagogues. At the head of the whole was the Marquis de
la Rouarie, one of those remarkable men who rise into pre-
eminence during the stormy days of a revolution, from conscious
ability to direct its current. Ardent, impetuous, and
enthusiastic, he was first distinguished in the American war,
when the intrepidity of his conduct attracted the admiration of
the Republican troops, and the same qualities rendered him at
first an ardent supporter of the Revolution in France; but when
the atrocities of the people began, he espoused with equal warmth
the opposite side, and used the utmost efforts to rouse the
noblesse of Brittany against the plebeian yoke which had been
imposed upon them by the National Assembly. He submitted his
plan to the Count d'Artois, and had organized one so extensive,
as would have proved extremely formidable to the Convention, if
the retreat of the Duke of Brunswick, in September 1792, had not
damped the ardour of the whole of the west of France, then ready
to break out into insurrection." [Alison, vol. iii. p. 323.]

And it was not only among the zealots of the old monarchy that
the cause of the king would then have found friends. The
ineffable atrocities of the September massacres had just
occurred, and the reaction produced by them among thousands who
had previously been active on the ultra-democratic side, was
fresh and powerful. The nobility had not yet been made utter
aliens in the eyes of the nation by long expatriation and civil
war. There was not yet a generation of youth educated in
revolutionary principles, and knowing no worship-save that of
military glory, Louis XVI. was just and humane, and deeply
sensible of the necessity of a gradual extension of political
rights among all classes of his subjects. The Bourbon throne, if
rescued in 1792, would have had chances of stability, such as did
not exist for it in 1814, and seem never likely to be found again
in France.

Serving under Kellerman on that day was one who experienced,

perhaps the most deeply of all men, the changes for good and for
evil which the French Revolution has produced. He who, in his
second exile, bore the name of the Count de Neuilly in this
country, and who lately was Louis Philippe, King of the French,
figured in the French lines at Valmy, as a young and gallant
officer, cool and sagacious beyond his years, and trusted
accordingly by Kellerman and Dumouriez with an important station
in the national army. The Duc de Chartres (the title he then
bore) commanded the French right, General Valence was on the
left, and Kellerman himself took his post in the centre, which
was the strength and key of his position.

Besides these celebrated men, who were in the French army, and
besides the King of Prussia, the Duke of Brunswick, and other men
of rank and power, who were in the lines of the Allies, there was
an individual present at the battle of Valmy, of little political
note, but who has exercised, and exercises, a greater influence
over the human mind, and whose fame is more widely spread, than
that of either duke, or general, or king. This was the German
poet, Goethe, who had, out of curiosity, accompanied the allied
army on its march into France as a mere spectator. He has given
us a curious record of the sensations which he experienced during
the cannonade. It must be remembered that many thousands in, the
French ranks then, like Goethe, felt the "cannon-fever" for the
first time. The German poet says, [Goethe's Campaign in France
in 1792. Farie's translation, p.77.]--

"I had heard so much of the cannon-fever, that I wanted to know

what kind of thing it was. ENNUI, and a spirit which every kind
of danger excites to daring, nay even to rashness, induced me to
ride up quite coolly to the outwork of La Lune. This was again
occupied by our people; but it presented the wildest aspect. The
roofs were shot to pieces; the corn-shocks scattered about, the
bodies of men mortally wounded stretched upon them here and
there; and occasionally a spent cannon-ball fell and rattled
among the ruins of the the roofs.

"Quite alone, and left to myself, I rode away on the heights to

the left, and could plainly survey the favourable position of the
French; they were standing in the form of a semicircle in the
greatest quiet and security; Kellerman, then on the left wing,
being the easiest to reach.

"I fell in with good company on the way, officers of my

acquaintance, belonging to the general staff and the regiment,
greatly surprised to find me here. They wanted to take me back
again with them; but I spoke to them of particular objects I had
in view, and they left me without further dissuasion, to my well-
known singular caprice.

"I had now arrived quite in the region where the balls were
playing across me: the sound of them is curious enough, as if it
were composed of the humming of tops, the gurgling of water, and
the whistling of birds. They were less dangerous, by reason of
the wetness of the ground: wherever one fell, it stuck fast.
And thus my foolish experimental ride was secured against the
danger at least of the balls rebounding.

"In the midst of these circumstances, I was soon able to remark

that something unusual was taking place within me. I paid close
attention to it, and still the sensation can be described only by
similitude. It appeared as if you were in some extremely hot
place, and, at the same time, quite penetrated by the heat of it,
so that you feel yourself, as it were, quite one with the element
in which you are. The eyes lose nothing of their strength or
clearness; but it is as if the world had a kind of brown-red
tint, which makes the situation, as well as the surrounding
objects, more impressive. I was unable to perceive any agitation
of the blood; but everything seemed rather to be swallowed up in
the glow of which I speak. From this, then, it is clear in what
sense this condition can be called a fever. It is remarkable,
however, that the horrible uneasy feeling arising from it is
produced in us solely through the ears; for the cannon-thunder,
the howling and crashing of the balls through the air, is the
real cause of these sensations.

"After I had ridden back, and was in perfect security, I remarked

with surprise that the glow was completely extinguished, and not
the slightest feverish agitation was left behind. On the whole,
this condition is one of the least desirable; as, indeed, among
my dear and noble comrades, I found scarcely one who expressed a
really passionate desire to try it."

Contrary to the expectations of both friends and foes, the French

infantry held their ground steadily under the fire of the
Prussian guns, which thundered on them from La Lune; and their
own artillery replied with equal spirit and greater effect on the
denser masses of the allied army. Thinking that the Prussians
were slackening in their fire, Kellerman formed a column in
charging order, and dashed down into the valley, in the hopes of
capturing some of the nearest guns of the enemy. A masked
battery opened its fire on the French column, and drove it back
in disorder. Kellerman having his horse shot under him, and
being with difficulty carried off by his men. The Prussian
columns now advanced in turn. The French artillerymen began to
waver and desert their posts, but were rallied by the efforts and
example of their officers; and Kellerman, reorganizing the line
of his infantry, took his station in the ranks on foot, and
called out to his men to let the enemy come close up, and then to
charge them with the bayonet. The troops caught the enthusiasm
of their general, and a cheerful shout of VIVE LA NATION! taken
by one battalion from another, pealed across the valley to the
assailants. The Prussians flinched from a charge up-hill against
a force that seemed so resolute and formidable; they halted for a
while in the hollow, and then slowly retreated up their own side
of the valley.

Indignant at being thus repulsed by such a foe, the King of

Prussia formed the flower of his men in person, and, riding along
the column, bitterly reproached them with letting their standard
be thus humiliated. Then he led them on again to the attack
marching in the front line, and seeing his staff mowed down
around him by the deadly fire which the French artillery re-
opened. But the troops sent by Dumouriez were now co-operating
effectually with Kellerman, and that general's own men, flushed
by success, presented a firmer front than ever. Again the
Prussians retreated, leaving eight hundred dead behind, and at
nightfall the French remained victors on the heights of Valmy.

All hopes of crushing the revolutionary armies, and of the

promenade to Paris, had now vanished, though Brunswick lingered
long in the Argonne, till distress and sickness wasted away his
once splendid force, and finally but a mere wreck of it recrossed
the frontier. France, meanwhile, felt that she possessed a
giant's strength, and like a giant did she use it. Before the
close of that year, all Belgium obeyed the National Convention at
Paris, and the kings of Europe, after the lapse of eighteen
centuries, trembled once more before a conquering military
Republic.

Goethe's description of the cannonade has been quoted. His

observation to his comrades in the camp of the Allies, at the end
of the battle, deserves citation also. It shows that the poet
felt (and, probably, he alone of the thousands there assembled
felt) the full importance of that day. He describes the
consternation and the change of demeanour which he observed among
his Prussian friends that evening, he tells us that "most of them
were silent; and, in fact, the power of reflection and judgment
was wanting to all. At last I was called upon to say what I
thought of the engagement; for I had been in the habit of
enlivening and amusing the troop with short sayings. This time I
said: 'FROM THIS PLACE, AND FROM THIS DAY FORTH, COMMENCES A NEW
ERA IN THE WORLD'S HISTORY, AND YOU CAN ALL SAY THAT YOU WERE
PRESENT AT ITS BIRTH.'"

SYNOPSIS OP EVENTS BETWEEN THE BATTLE OF VALMY, 1792, AND THE

BATTLE OF WATERLOO, 1815.

A.D. 1793. Trial and execution of Louis XVI. at Paris. England

and Spain declare war against France. Royalist war in La Vendee.
Second invasion of France by the Allies.

1794. Lord Howe's victory over the French fleet. Final

partition of Poland by Russia, Prussia, and Austria.

1795. The French armies under Pichegru, conquer Holland.

Cessation of the war in La Vendee.

1796. Bonaparte commands the French army of Italy and gains

repeated victories over the Austrians.

1797. Victory of Jervis, off Cape St. Vincent. Peace of Campo

Formio between France and Austria. Defeat of the Dutch off
Camperdown by Admiral Duncan.

1798. Rebellion in Ireland. Expedition of the French under

Bonaparte to Egypt. Lord Nelson destroys the French fleet at the
Battle of the Nile.

1799. Renewal of the war between Austria and France. The

Russian emperor sends an army in aid of Austria, under Suwarrow.
The French are repeatedly defeated in Italy. Bonaparte returns
from Egypt and makes himself First Consul of France. Massena
wins the battle of Zurich. The Russian emperor makes peace with
France.

1800. Bonaparte passes the Alps and defeats the Austrians at

Marengo. Moreau wins the battle of Hohenlinden.

1801. Treaty of Luneville between France and Austria. The

battle of Copenhagen.

1802. Peace of Amiens.

1803. War between England and France renewed.

1804. Napoleon Bonaparte is made Emperor of France.

1805. Great preparations of Napoleon to invade England.

Austria, supported by Russia, renews war with France. Napoleon
marches into Germany, takes Vienna, and gains the battle of
Austerlitz. Lord Nelson destroys the combined French and Spanish
fleets, and is killed at the battle of Trafalgar.

1806. War between Prussia and France, Napoleon conquers Prussia

in the battle of Jena.

1807. Obstinate warfare between the French and Russian armies in

East Prussia and Poland. Peace of Tilsit.

1808. Napoleon endeavours to make his brother King of Spain.

Rising of the Spanish nation against him. England sends troops
to aid the Spaniards. Battles of Vimiera and Corunna.

1809. War renewed between France and Austria. Battles of

Asperne and Wagram. Peace granted to Austria. Lord Wellington's
victory of Talavera, in Spain.

1810. Marriage of Napoleon and the Arch-duchess Maria Louisa.

Holland annexed to France.

1812. War between England and the United States. Napoleon

invades Russia. Battle of Borodino. The French occupy Moscow,
which is burned. Disastrous retreat and almost total destruction
of the great army of France.

1813. Prussia and Austria take up arms again against France.

Battles of Lutzen, Bautzen, Dresden, Culm, and Leipsic. The
French are driven out of Germany. Lord Wellington gains the
great battle of Vittoria, which completes the rescue of Spain
from France.

1814. The Allies invade France on the eastern, and Lord

Wellington invades it on the southern frontier. Battles of Laon,
Montmirail, Arcis-sur-Aube, and others in the north-east of
France; and of Toulouse in the south. Paris surrenders to the
Allies, and Napoleon abdicates. First restoration of the
Bourbons. Napoleon goes to the isle of Elba, which is assigned
to him by the Allies. Treaty of Ghent, between the United States
and England.

1815. Napoleon suddenly escapes from Elba, and lands in France.

The French soldiery join him and Louis XVIII. is obliged to fly
from the throne.

CHAPTER XV.

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO, 1815.

"Thou first and last of fields, king-making victory."--BYRON.

England has now been blest with thirty-seven years of peace. At

no other period of her history can a similarly long cessation
from a state of warfare be found. It is true that our troops
have had battles to fight during this interval for the protection
and extension of our Indian possessions and our colonies; but
these have been with distant and unimportant enemies. The danger
has never been brought near our own shores, and no matter of
vital importance to our empire has ever been at stake. We have
not had hostilities with either France, America, or Russia; and
when not at war with any of our peers, we feel ourselves to be
substantially at peace. There has, indeed, throughout this long
period, been no great war, like those with which the previous
history of modern Europe abounds. There have been formidable
collisions between particular states; and there have been still
more formidable collisions between the armed champions of the
conflicting principles of absolutism and democracy; but there has
been no general war, like those of the French Revolution, like
the American, or the Seven Years' War, or like the War of the
Spanish Succession. It would be far too much to augur from this,
that no similar wars will again convulse the world; but the value
of the period of peace which Europe has gained, is incalculable;
even if we look on it as only a truce, and expect again to see
the nations of the earth recur to what some philosophers have
termed man's natural state of warfare.

No equal number of years can be found, during which science,

commerce, and civilization have advanced so rapidly and so
extensively, as has been the case since 1815. When we trace
their progress, especially in this country, it is impossible not
to feel that their wondrous development has been mainly due to
the land having been at peace. [See the excellent Introduction
to Mr. Charles Knight's "History of the Thirty Years' Peace."]
Their good effects cannot be obliterated, even if a series of
wars were to recommence. When we reflect on this, and contrast
these thirty-seven years with the period that preceded them, a
period of violence, of tumult, of unrestingly destructive
energy,--a period throughout which the wealth of nations was
scattered like sand, and the blood of nations lavished like
water,--it is impossible not to look with deep interest on the
final crisis of that dark and dreadful epoch; the crisis out of
which our own happier cycle of years has been evolved. The great
battle which ended the twenty-three years' war of the first
French Revolution, and which quelled the man whose genius and
ambition had so long disturbed and desolated the world, deserves
to be regarded by us, not only with peculiar pride, as one of our
greatest national victories, but with peculiar gratitude for the
repose which it secured for us, and for the greater part of the
human race.

One good test for determining the importance of Waterloo, is to

ascertain what was felt by wise and prudent statesmen before that
battle, respecting the return of Napoleon from Elba to the
Imperial throne of France, and the probable effects of his
success. For this purpose, I will quote the words, not of any of
our vehement anti-Gallican politicians of the school of Pitt, but
of a leader of our Liberal party, of a man whose reputation as a
jurist, a historian and a far-sighted and candid statesman, was,
and is, deservedly high, not only in this country, but throughout
Europe. Sir James Mackintosh, in the debate in the British House
of Commons, on the 20th April, 1815, spoke thus of the return
from Elba:--

"Was it in the power of language to describe the evil. Wars

which had raged for more than twenty years throughout Europe;
which had spread blood and desolation from Cadiz to Moscow, and
from Naples to Copenhagen; which had wasted the means of human
enjoyment, and destroyed the instruments of social improvement;
which threatened to diffuse among the European nations, the
dissolute and ferocious habits of a predatory soldiery,--at
length, by one of those vicissitudes which bid defiance to the
foresight of man, had been brought to a close, upon the whole,
happy beyond all reasonable expectation, with no violent shock to
national independence, with some tolerable compromise between the
opinions of the age and reverence due to ancient institutions;
with no too signal or mortifying triumph over the legitimate
interests or avowable feelings of any numerous body of men, and,
above all, without those retaliations against nations or parties,
which beget new convulsions, often as horrible as those which
they close, and perpetuate revenge and hatred and bloodshed, from
age to age. Europe seemed to breathe after her sufferings. In
the midst of this fair prospect, and of these consolatory hopes,
Napoleon Bonaparte escaped from Elba; three small vessels reached
the coast of Provence; our hopes are instantly dispelled; the
work of our toil and fortitude is undone; the blood of Europe is
spilt in vain--

"'Ibi omnis effusus labor!'"

The Congress of Emperors, Kings, Princes, Generals, and

Statesmen, who had assembled at Vienna to remodel the world after
the overthrow of the mighty conqueror, and who thought that
Napoleon had passed away for ever from the great drama of
European politics, had not yet completed their triumphant
festivities, and their diplomatic toils, when Talleyrand, on the
11th of March, 1815, rose up among them, and announced that the
ex-emperor had escaped from Elba, and was Emperor of France once
more. It is recorded by Sir Walter Scott, as a curious
physiological fact, that the first effect of the news of an event
which threatened to neutralise all their labours, was to excite a
loud burst of laughter from nearly every member of the Congress.
[Life of Napoleon, vol. viii. chap. 1.] But the jest was a
bitter one: and they soon were deeply busied in anxious
deliberations respecting the mode in which they should encounter
their arch-enemy, who had thus started from torpor and obscurity
into renovated splendour and strength:

"Qualis ubi in lucem coluber mala gramina pastus,

Frigida sub terra tumidum quem bruma tegebat,
Nunc positis novus exuviis nitidusque juventa,
Lubrica convolvit sublato pectore terga
Arduus ad solem, at linguis micat ore trisulcis." Virg. AEN.

Napoleon sought to disunite the formidable confederacy, which he

knew would be arrayed against him, by endeavouring to negotiate
separately with each of the allied sovereigns. It is said that
Austria and Russia were at first not unwilling to treat with him.
Disputes and jealousies had been rife among several of the Allies
on the subject of the division of the conquered countries; and
the cordial unanimity with which they had acted during 1813 and
the first months of 1814, had grown chill during some weeks of
discussions. But the active exertions of Tralleyrand, who
represented Louis XVIII. at the Congress, and who both hated and
feared Napoleon with all the intensity of which his powerful
spirit was capable, prevented the secession of any member of the
Congress from the new great league against their ancient enemy.
Still it is highly probable that, if Napoleon had triumphed in
Belgium over the Prussians and the English, he would have
succeeded in opening negotiations with the Austrians and
Russians; and he might have thus gained advantages similar to
those which he had obtained on his return from Egypt, when he
induced the Czar Paul to withdraw the Russian armies from co-
operating with the other enemies of France in the extremity of
peril to which she seemed reduced in 1799. But fortune now had
deserted him both in diplomacy and in war.

On the 13th of March, 1815, the Ministers of the seven powers,

Austria, Spain, England, Portugal, Prussia, Russia, and Sweden,
signed a manifesto, by which they declared Napoleon an outlaw;
and this denunciation was instantly followed up by a treaty
between England, Austria, Prussia, and Russia (to which other
powers soon acceded), by which the rulers of those countries
bound themselves to enforce that decree, and to prosecute the war
until Napoleon should be driven from the throne of France, and
rendered incapable of disturbing the peace of Europe. The Duke
of Wellington was the representative of England at the Congress
of Vienna, and he was immediately applied to for his advice on
the plan of military operations against France. It was obvious
that Belgium would be the first battle-field; and by the general
wish of the Allies, the English Duke proceeded thither to
assemble an army from the contingents of Dutch, Belgian, and
Hanoverian troops, that were most speedily available, and from
the English regiments which his own Government was hastening to
send over from this country. A strong Prussian corps was near
Aix-la-Chapelle, having remained there since the campaign of the
preceding year. This was largely reinforced by other troops of
the same nation; and Marshal Blucher, the favourite hero of the
Prussian soldiery, and the deadliest foe of France, assumed the
command of this army, which was termed the Army of the Lower
Rhine; and which, in conjunction with Wellington's forces, was to
make the van of the armaments of the Allied Powers. Meanwhile
Prince Swartzenburg was to collect 130,000 Austrians, and 124,000
troops of other Germanic States, as "the Army of the Upper
Rhine;" and 168,000 Russians, under the command of Barclay de
Tolly, were to form "the Army of the Middle Rhine," and to repeat
the march from Muscovy to that river's banks.

The exertions which the Allied Powers thus made at this crisis to
grapple promptly with the French emperor have truly been termed
gigantic; and never were Napoleon's genius and activity more
signally displayed, than in the celerity and skill by which he
brought forward all the military resources of France, which the
reverses of the three preceding years, and the pacific policy of
the Bourbons during the months of their first restoration, had
greatly diminished and disorganized. He re-entered Paris on the
20th of March, and by the end of May, besides sending a force
into La Vendee to put down the armed rising of the royalists in
that province, and besides providing troops under Massena and
Suchet for the defence of the southern frontiers of France,
Napoleon had an army assembled in the north-east for active
operations under his own command, which amounted to between one
hundred and twenty, and one hundred and thirty thousand men, with
a superb park of artillery and in the highest possible state of
equipment, discipline, and efficiency. [See for these numbers
Siborne's History of the Campaign of Waterloo, vol. i. p. 41.]

The approach of the multitudinous Russian, Austrian, Bavarian,

and other foes of the French Emperor to the Rhine was necessarily
slow; but the two most active of the allied powers had occupied
Belgium with their troops, while Napoleon was organizing his
forces. Marshal Blucher was there with one hundred and sixteen
thousand Prussians; and, before the end of May, the Duke of
Wellington was there also with about one hundred and six thousand
troops, either British or in British pay. [Ibid. vol. i. chap.
3. Wellington had but a small part of his old Peninsular army in
Belgium. The flower of it had been sent on the expeditions
against America. His troops, in 1815, were chiefly second
battalions, or regiments lately filled up with new recruits. See
Scott, vol viii. p. 474.] Napoleon determined to attack these
enemies in Belgium. The disparity of numbers was indeed great,
but delay was sure to increase the proportionate numerical
superiority of his enemies over his own ranks. The French
Emperor considered also that "the enemy's troops were now
cantoned under the command of two generals, and composed of
nations differing both in interest and in feelings." [See
Montholon's Memoirs, p. 45.] His own army was under his own sole
command. It was composed exclusively of French soldiers, mostly
of veterans, well acquainted with their officers and with each
other, and full of enthusiastic confidence in their commander.
If he could separate the Prussians from the British, so as to
attack each singly, he felt sanguine of success, not only against
these the most resolute of his many adversaries, but also against
the other masses, that were slowly labouring up against his
eastern dominions.

The triple chain of strong fortresses, which the French possessed

on the Belgian frontier, formed a curtain, behind which Napoleon
was able to concentrate his army, and to conceal, till the very
last moment, the precise line of attack which he intended to
take. On the other hand, Blucher and Wellington were obliged to
canton their troops along a line of open country of considerable
length, so as to watch for the outbreak of Napoleon from
whichever point of his chain of strongholds he should please to
make it. Blucher, with his army, occupied the banks of the
Sambre and the Meuse, from Liege on his left, to Charleroi on his
right; and the Duke of Wellington covered Brussels; his
cantonments being partly in front of that city and between it and
the French frontier, and partly on its west their extreme right
reaching to Courtray and Tournay, while the left approached
Charleroi and communicated with the Prussian right. It was upon
Charleroi that Napoleon resolved to level his attack, in hopes of
severing the two allied armies from each other, and then pursuing
his favourite tactic of assailing each separately with a superior
force on the battle-field, though the aggregate of their numbers
considerably exceeded his own.

The first French corps d'armee, commanded by Count d'Erlon, was

stationed in the beginning of June in and around the city of
Lille, near to the north-eastern frontier of France. The second
corps, under Count Reille, was at Valenciennes, to the right of
the first one. The third corps, under Count Vandamme, was at
Mezieres. The fourth, under Count Gerard, had its head-quarters
at Metz, and the sixth under Count Lobau, was at Laon. [The
fifth corps was under Count Rapp at Strasburg.] Four corps of
reserve cavalry, under Marshal Grouchy, were also near the
frontier, between the rivers Aisne and Sambre. The Imperial
Guard remained in Paris until the 8th of June, when it marched
towards Belgium, and reached Avesnes on the 13th; and in the
course of the same and the following day, the five corps d'armee
with the cavalry reserves which have been mentioned, were, in
pursuance of skilfully combined orders, rapidly drawn together,
and concentrated in and around the same place, on the right bank
of the river Sambre. On the 14th Napoleon arrived among his
troops, who were exulting at the display of their commander's
skill in the celerity and precision with which they had been
drawn together, and in the consciousness of their collective
strength. Although Napoleon too often permitted himself to use
language unworthy of his own character respecting his great
English adversary, his real feelings in commencing this campaign
may be judged from the last words which he spoke, as he threw
himself into his travelling carriage to leave Paris for the army.
"I go," he said, "to measure myself with Wellington."

The enthusiasm of the French soldiers at seeing their Emperor

among them, was still more excited by the "Order of the day," in
which he thus appealed to them:

"Napoleon, by the Grace of God, and the Constitution of the

Empire, Emperor of the French, &c. to the Grand Army.

AT THE IMPERIAL HEAD-QUARTERS, AVESNES, JUNE 14th, 1815.

 "Soldiers! this day is the anniversary of Marengo and of
Friedland, which twice decided the destiny of Europe. Then, as
after Austerlitz, as after Wagram, we were too generous! We
believed in the protestations and in the oaths of princes, whom
we left on their thrones. Now, however, leagued together, they
aim at the independence and the most sacred rights of France.
They have commenced the most unjust of aggressions. Let us,
then, march to meet them. Are they and we no longer the same
men?

"Soldiers! at Jena, against these same Prussians, now so

arrogant, you were one to three, and at Montmirail one to six!

"Let those among you who have been captives to the English,
describe the nature of their prison ships, and the frightful
miseries they endured.

"The Saxons, the Belgians, the Hanoverians, the soldiers of the

Confederation of the Rhine, lament that they are compelled to use
their arms in the cause of princes, the enemies of justice and of
the rights of all nations. They know that this coalition is
insatiable! After having devoured twelve millions of Poles,
twelve millions of Italians, one million of Saxons, and six
millions of Belgians, it now wishes to devour the states of the
second rank in Germany.

"Madmen! one moment of prosperity has bewildered them. The

oppression and the humiliation of the French people are beyond
their power. If they enter France they will there find their
grave.

"Soldiers! we have forced marches to make, battles to fight,

dangers to encounter; but, with firmness victory will, be ours.
The rights, the honour, and the happiness of the country will be
recovered!

"To every Frenchman who has a heart, the moment is now arrived to
conquer or to die. "NAPOLEON."

"THE MARSHAL DUKE OF DALMATIA. MAJOR GENERAL."

The 15th of June had scarcely dawned before the French army was
in motion for the decisive campaign, and crossed the frontier in
three columns, which were pointed upon Charleroi and its
vicinity. The French line of advance upon Brussels, which city
Napoleon resolved to occupy, thus lay right through the centre of
the cantonments of the Allies.

Much criticism has been expended on the supposed surprise of

Wellington's army in its cantonments by Napoleon's rapid advance.
These comments would hardly have been made if sufficient
attention had been paid to the geography of the Waterloo
campaign; and if it had been remembered that the protection of
Brussels was justly considered by the allied generals a matter of
primary importance. If Napoleon could, either by manoeuvring or
fighting, have succeeded in occupying that city, the greater part
of Belgium would unquestionably have declared in his favour; and
the results of such a success, gained by the Emperor at the
commencement of the campaign, might have decisively influenced
the whole after-current of events. A glance at the map will show
the numerous roads that lead from the different fortresses on the
French north-eastern frontier, and converge upon Brussels; any
one of which Napoleon might have chosen for the advance of a
strong force upon that city. The Duke's army was judiciously
arranged, so as to enable him to concentrate troops on any one of
these roads sufficiently in advance of Brussels to check an
assailing enemy. The army was kept thus available for movement
in any necessary direction, till certain intelligence arrived on
the 15th of June that the French had crossed the frontier in
large force near Thuin, that they had driven back the Prussian
advanced troops under General Ziethen, and were also moving
across the Sambre upon Charleroi.

Marshal Blucher now rapidly concentrated his forces, calling them

in from the left upon Ligny, which is to the north-east of
Charleroi. Wellington also drew his troops together, calling
them in from the right. But even now, though it was certain that
the French were in large force at Charleroi it was unsafe for the
English general to place his army directly between that place and
Brussels, until it was certain that no corps of the enemy was
marching upon Brussels by the western road through Mons and Hal.
The Duke therefore, collected his troops in Brussels and its
immediate vicinity, ready to move due southward upon Quatre Bras,
and co-operate with Blucher, who was taking his station at Ligny:
but also ready to meet and defeat any manoeuvre, that the enemy
might make to turn the right of the Allies, and occupy Brussels
by a flanking movement. The testimony of the Prussian general,
Baron Muffling, who was attached to the Duke's staff during the
campaign, and who expressly states the reasons on which the
English general acted, ought for ever to have silenced the "weak
inventions of the enemy" about the Duke of Wellington having been
deceived and surprised by his assailant, which some writers of
our own nation, as well as foreigners, have incautiously repeated.
[See "Passages from my Life and Writings," by Baron Muffling,
p. 224 of the English Translation, edited by Col. Yorke. See
also the 178th number of the QUARTERLY. It is strange that
Lamartine should, after the appearance of Muffling's work, have
repeated in his "History of the Restoration" the myth of
Wellington having been surprised in the Brussels ball-room, &c.]

It was about three o'clock in the afternoon of the 15th, that a

Prussian officer reached Brussels, whom General Ziethen had sent
to Muffling to inform him of the advance of the main French army
upon Charleroi. Muffling immediately communicated this to the
Duke of Wellington; and asked him whether he would now
concentrate his army, and what would be his point of
concentration; observing that Marshal Blucher in consequence of
this intelligence would certainly concentrate the Prussians at
Ligny. The Duke replied--"If all is as General Ziethen supposes,
I will concentrate on my left wing, and so be in readiness to
fight in conjunction with the Prussian army. Should, however, a
portion of the enemy's force come by Mons, I must concentrate
more towards my centre. This is the reason why I must wait for
positive news from Mons before I fix the rendezvous. Since,
however, it is certain that the troops MUST march, though it is
uncertain upon what precise spot they must march, I will order
all to be in readiness, and will direct a brigade to move at once
towards Quatre Bras." [Muffling, p. 231.]

Later in the same day a message from Blucher himself was

delivered to Muffling, in which the Prussian Field-Marshal
informed the Baron that he was concentrating his men at Sombref
and Ligny, and charged Muffling to give him speedy intelligence
respecting the concentration of Wellington. Muffling immediately
communicated this to the Duke, who expressed his satisfaction
with Blucher's arrangements, but added that he could not even
then resolve upon his own point of concentration before he
obtained the desired intelligence from Mons. About midnight this
information arrived. The Duke went to the quarters of General
Muffling, and told him that he now had received his reports from
Mons, and was sure that no French troops were advancing by that
route, but that the mass of the enemy's force was decidedly
directed on Charleroi. He informed the Prussian general that he
had ordered the British troops to move forward upon Quatre Bras;
but with characteristic coolness and sagacity resolved not to
give the appearance of alarm by hurrying on with them himself. A
ball was to be given by the Duchess of Richmond at Brussels that
night, and the Duke proposed to General Muffling that they should
go to the ball for a few hours, and ride forward in the morning
to overtake the troops at Quatre Bras.

To hundreds, who were assembled at that memorable ball, the news

that the enemy was advancing, and that the time for battle had
come, must have been a fearfully exciting surprise, and the
magnificent stanzas of Byron are as true as they are beautiful;
but the Duke and his principal officers knew well the stern
termination to that festive scene which was approaching. One by
one, and in such a way as to attract as little observation as
possible, the leaders of the various corps left the ball-room,
and took their stations at the head of their men, who were
pressing forward through the last hours of the short summer night
to the arena of anticipated slaughter.

[There was a sound of revelry by night,

And Belgium's capital had gather'd then
Her Beauty and her chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men;
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell;
But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell,

Did ye not hear it?--No; 'twas but; the wind,

Or the car rattling o'er the stony street;
On with the dance! let joy be unconfined;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet
To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet--
But, hark!--that heavy sound breaks in once more,
As if the clouds its echo would repeat;
And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before!
Arm! Arm! it is--it is--the cannon's opening roar!

Within a window'd niche of that high hall

 Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear
That sound the first amidst the festival,
And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear;
And when they smiled because he deem'd it near,
His heart more truly knew that peal too well
Which stretch'd his father on a bloody bier,
And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell;
He rush'd into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell.

Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,

And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress,
And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago
Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness;
And there were sudden partings, such as press
The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs
Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess
If ever more should meet those mutual eyes,
Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise!

And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed,

The mustering squadron, and the clattering car,
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;
And the deep thunder peal on peal afar;
And near, the beat of the alarming drum
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;
While thronged the citizens with terror dumb,
Or whispering, with white lips--"The foe! They come! they
come!"

And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves,

Dewy with nature's teardrops, as they pass,
Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves,
Over the unreturning brave,--alas!
Ere evening to be trodden like the grass
Which now beneath them, but above shall grow
In its next verdure, when this fiery mass
Of living valour, rolling on the foe
And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low.

Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,

Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay,
The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife,
The morn the marshalling in arms,--the day
Battle's magnificently stern array!
The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent
The earth is covered thick with other clay,
Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent,
Rider and horse,--friend, foe,--in one red burial blent.

Napoleon's operations on the 16th had been conducted with signal

skill and vigour; and their results had been very advantageous
for his plan of the campaign. With his army formed in three vast
columns, [Victoires et Conquetes des Francais, vol. xxv. p. 177.]
he had struck at the centre of the line of cantonments of his
allied foes; and he had so far made good his blow, that he had
affected the passage of the Sambre, he had beaten with his left
wing the Prussian corps of General Ziethen at Thuin, and with his
centre he had in person advanced right through Charleroi upon
Fleurus, inflicting considerable loss upon the Prussians that
fell back before him. His right column had with little
opposition moved forward as far as the bridge of Chatelet.

Napoleon had thus a powerful force immediately in front of the

point which Blucher had fixed for the concentration of the
Prussian army, and that concentration was still incomplete. The
French Emperor designed to attack the Prussians on the morrow in
person, with the troops of his centre and right columns, and to
employ his left wing in beating back such English troops as might
advance to the help of their allies, and also in aiding his own
attack upon Blucher. He gave the command of this left wing to
Marshal Ney. Napoleon seems not to have originally intended to
employ this celebrated General in the campaign. It was only on
the night of the 11th of June, that Marshal Ney received at Paris
an order to join the army. Hurrying forward to the Belgian
frontier, he met the Emperor near Charleroi. Napoleon
immediately directed him to take the command of the left wing,
and to press forward with it upon Quatre Bras by the line of the
road which leads from Charleroi to Brussels, through Gosselies,
Frasne, Quatre Bras, Genappe, and Waterloo. Ney immediately
proceeded to the post assigned him; and before ten on the night
of the 15th he had occupied Gosselies and Frasne, driving out
without much difficulty some weak Belgian detachments which had
been stationed in those villages. The lateness of the hour, and
the exhausted state of the French troops, who had been marching
and fighting since ten in the morning, made him pause from
advancing further to attack the much more important position of
Quatre Bras. In truth, the advantages which the French gained by
their almost superhuman energy and activity throughout the long
day of the 15th of June, were necessarily bought at the price of
more delay and inertness during the following night and morrow,
than would have been observable if they had not been thus
overtasked. Ney has been blamed for want of promptness in his
attack upon Quatre Bras; and Napoleon has been criticised for not
having fought at Ligny before the afternoon of the 16th: but
their censors should remember that soldiers are but men ; and
that there must be necessarily some interval of time, before
troops, that have been worn and weakened by twenty hours of
incessant fatigue and strife, can be fed, rested, reorganized,
and brought again into action with any hope of success.

Having on the night of the 15th placed the most advanced of the
French under his command in position in front of Frasne, Ney rode
back to Charleroi, where Napoleon also arrived about midnight,
having returned from directing the operations of the centre and
right column of the French. The Emperor and the Marshal supped
together, and remained in earnest conversation till two in the
morning. An hour or two afterwards Ney rode back to Frasne,
where he endeavoured to collect tidings of the numbers and
movements of the enemy in front of him; and also busied himself
in the necessary duty of learning the amount and composition of
the troops which he himself was commanding. He had been so
suddenly appointed to his high station, that he did not know the
strength of the several regiments under him, or even the names of
their commanding officers. He now caused his aides-de-camp to
prepare the requisite returns, and drew together the troops, whom
he was thus learning before he used them.

Wellington remained at the Duchess of Richmond's ball at Brussels

till about three o'clock in the morning of the 16th, "showing
himself very cheerful" as Baron Muffling, who accompanied him,
observes. [Muffling, p. 233.] At five o'clock the Duke and the
Baron were on horseback, and reached the position at Quatre Bras
about eleven. As the French, who were in front of Frasne, were
perfectly quiet, and the Duke was informed that a very large
force under Napoleon in person was menacing Blucher, it was
thought possible that only a slight detachment of the French was
posted at Frasne in order to mask the English army. In that
event Wellington, as he told Baron Muffling, would be able to
employ his whole strength in supporting the Prussians: and he
proposed to ride across from Quatre Bras to Blucher's position,
in order to concert with him personally the measures which should
be taken in order to bring on a decisive battle with the French.
Wellington and Muffling rode accordingly towards Ligny, and found
Marshal Blucher and his staff at the windmill of Bry, near that
village. The Prussian army, 80,000 strong, was drawn up chiefly
along a chain of heights, with the villages of Sombref, St.
Amand, and Ligny in their front. These villages were strongly
occupied by Prussian detachments, and formed the keys of
Blucher's position. The heads of the columns which Napoleon was
forming for the attack, were visible in the distance. The Duke
asked Blucher and General Gneisenau (who was Blucher's adviser in
matters of strategy) what they wished him to do, Muffling had
already explained to them in a few words the Duke's earnest
desire to support the Field-Marshal, and that he would do all
that they wished, provided they did not ask him to divide his
army, which was contrary to his principles. The Duke wished to
advance with his army (as soon as it was concentrated) upon
Frasne and Gosselies, and thence to move upon Napoleon's flank
and rear. The Prussian leaders preferred that he should march
his men from Quatre Bras by the Namur road, so as to form a
reserve in rear of Blucher's army. The Duke replied, "Well, I
will come if I am not attacked myself," and galloped back with
Muffling to Quatre Bras, where the French attack was now actually
raging.

Marshal Ney began the battle about two o'clock in the afternoon.
He had at this time in hand about 16,000 infantry, nearly 2,000
cavalry, and 38 guns. The force which Napoleon nominally placed
at his command exceeded 40,000 men. But more than one half of
these consisted of the first French corps d'armee, under Count
d'Erlon; and Ney was deprived of the use of this corps at the
time that he most required it, in consequence of its receiving
orders to march to the aid of the Emperor at Ligny. A
magnificent body of heavy cavalry under Kellerman, nearly 5,000
strong, and several more battalions of artillery were added to
Ney's army during the battle of Quatre Bras; but his effective
infantry force never exceeded 16,000.

When the battle began, the greater part of the Duke's army was
yet on its march towards Quatre Bras from Brussels and the other
parts of its cantonments. The force of the Allies, actually in
position there, consisted only of a Dutch and Belgian division of
infantry, not quite 7,000 strong, with one battalion of foot, and
one of horse-artillery. The Prince of Orange commanded them. A
wood, called the Bois de Bossu, stretched along the right (or
western) flank of the position of Quatre Bras; a farmhouse and
building, called Gemiancourt, stood on some elevated ground in
its front; and to the left (or east), were the inclosures of the
village of Pierremont. The Prince of Orange endeavoured to
secure these posts; but Ney carried Gemiancourt in the centre,
and Pierremont on the east, and gained occupation of the southern
part of the wood of Bossu. He ranged the chief part of his
artillery on the high ground of Gemiancourt, whence it played
throughout the action with most destructive effect upon the
Allies. He was pressing forward to further advantages, when the
fifth infantry division under Sir Thomas Picton and the Duke of
Brunswick's corps appeared upon the scene. Wellington (who had
returned to Quatre Bras from his interview with Blucher shortly
before the arrival of these forces) restored the fight with them;
and, as fresh troops of the Allies arrived, they were brought
forward to stem the fierce attacks which Ney's columns and
squadrons continued to make with unabated gallantry and zeal.
The only cavalry of the anglo-allied army that reached Quatre
Bras during the action, consisted of Dutch and Belgians, and a
small force of Brunswickers, under their Duke, who was killed on
the field. These proved wholly unable to encounter Kellerman's
cuirassiers and Pire's lancers; the Dutch and Belgian infantry
also gave way early in the engagement; so that the whole brunt of
the battle fell on the British and German infantry. They
sustained it nobly. Though repeatedly charged by the French
cavalry, though exposed to the murderous fire of the French
batteries, which from the heights of Gemiancourt sent shot and
shell into the devoted squares whenever the French horseman
withdrew, they not only repelled their assailants, but Kempt's
and Pack's brigades, led, on by Picton, actually advanced against
and through their charging foes, and with stern determination
made good to the end of the day the ground which they had thus
boldly won. Some, however, of the British regiments were during
the confusion assailed by the French cavalry before they could
form squares, and suffered severely. One regiment, the 92d, was
almost wholly destroyed by the cuirassiers. A French private
soldier, named Lami, of the 8th regiment of cuirassiers, captured
one of the English colours, and presented it to Ney. It was a
solitary trophy. The arrival of the English Guards about half-
past six o'clock, enabled the Duke to recover the wood of Bossu,
which the French had almost entirely won, and the possession of
which by them would have enabled Ney to operate destructively
upon the allied flank and rear. Not only was the wood of Bossu
recovered on the British right, but the inclosures of Pierremont
were also carried on the left. When night set in the French had
been driven back on all points towards Frasne; but they still
held the farm of Gemiancourt in front of the Duke's centre.
Wellington and Muffling were unacquainted with the result of the
collateral battle between Blucher and Napoleon, the cannonading
of which had been distinctly audible at Quatre Bras throughout
the afternoon and evening. The Duke observed to Muffling, that
of course the two Allied armies would assume the offensive
against the enemy on the morrow; and consequently, it would be
better to capture the farm at once, instead of waiting till next
morning. Muffling agreed in the Duke's views and Gemiancourt was
forthwith attacked by the English and captured with little loss
to its assailants. [Muffling, p. 242.]

Meanwhile the French and the Prussians had been fighting in and
round the villages of Ligny, Sombref, and St. Armand, from three
in the afternoon to nine in the evening, with a savage inveteracy
almost unparalleled in modern warfare. Blucher had in the field,
when he began the battle, 83,417 men, and 224 guns. Bulow's
corps, which was 25,000 strong, had not joined him; but the
Field-Marshal hoped to be reinforced by it, or by the English
army before the end of the action. But Bulow, through some error
in the transmission of orders, was far in the rear; and the Duke
of Wellington was engaged, as we have seen, with Marshal Ney.
Blucher received early warning from Baron Muffling that the Duke
could not come to his assistance; but, as Muffling observes,
Wellington rendered the Prussians the great service of occupying
more than 40,000 of the enemy, who otherwise would have crushed
Blucher's right flank. For, not only did the conflict at Quatre
Bras detain the French troops which actually took part in it, but
d'Erlon received orders from Ney to join him, which hindered
d'Erlon from giving effectual aid to Napoleon. Indeed, the whole
of d'Erlon's corps, in consequence of conflicting directions from
Ney and the Emperor, marched and countermarched, during the 16th,
between Quatre Bras and Ligny without firing a shot in either
battle.

Blucher had, in fact, a superiority of more than 12,000 in number

over the French army that attacked him at Ligny. The numerical
difference was even greater at the beginning of the battle, as
Lobau's corps did not come up from Charleroi till eight o'clock.
After five hours and a half of desperate and long-doubtful
struggle, Napoleon succeeded in breaking the centre of the
Prussian line at Ligny, and in forcing his obstinate antagonists
off the field of battle. The issue was attributable to his
skill, and not to any want of spirit or resolution on the part of
the Prussian troops; nor did they, though defeated, abate one jot
in discipline, heart, or hope. As Blucher observed, it was a
battle in which his army lost the day but not its honour. The
Prussians retreated during the night of the 16th, and the early
part of the 17th, with perfect regularity and steadiness, The
retreat was directed not towards Maestricht, where their
principal depots were established, but towards Wavre, so as to be
able to maintain their communication with Wellington's army, and
still follow out the original plan of the campaign. The heroism
with which the Prussians endured and repaired their defeat at
Ligny, is more glorious than many victories.

The messenger who was sent to inform Wellington of the retreat of

the Prussian army, was shot on the way; and it was not until the
morning of the 17th that the Allies, at Quatre Bras, knew the
result of the battle of Ligny. The Duke was ready at daybreak to
take the offensive against the enemy with vigour, his whole army
being by that time fully assembled. But on learning that Blucher
had been defeated, a different course of action was clearly
necessary. It was obvious that Napoleon's main army would now be
directed against Wellington, and a retreat was inevitable. On
ascertaining that the Prussian army had retired upon Wavre, that
there was no hot pursuit of them by the French, and that Bulow's
corps had taken no part in the action at Ligny, the Duke resolved
to march his army back towards Brussels, still intending to cover
that city, and to halt at a point in a line with Wavre, and there
restore his communication with Blucher. An officer from
Blucher's army reached the Duke about nine o'clock, from whom he
learned the effective strength that Blucher still possessed, and
how little discouraged his ally was by the yesterday's battle.
Wellington sent word to the Prussian commander that he would halt
in the position of Mont St. Jean, and accept a general battle
with the French, if Blucher would pledge himself to come to his
assistance with a single corps of 25,000 men. This was readily
promised; and after allowing his men ample time for rest and
refreshment, Wellington retired over about half the space between
Quatre Bras and Brussels. He was pursued, but little molested,
by the main French army, which about noon of the 17th moved
laterally from Ligny, and joined Ney's forces, which had advanced
through Quatre Bras when the British abandoned that position.
The Earl of Uxbridge, with the British cavalry, covered the
retreat of the Duke's army, with great skill and gallantry; and a
heavy thunderstorm, with torrents of rain, impeded the operations
of the French pursuing squadrons. The Duke still expected that
the French would endeavour to turn his right, and march upon
Brussels by the high road that leads through Mons and Hal. In
order to counteract this anticipated manoeuvre, he stationed a
force of 18,000 men, under Prince Frederick of the Netherlands,
at Hal, with orders to maintain himself there if attacked, as
long as possible. The Duke halted with the rest of his army at
the position near Mont St. Jean, which, from a village in its
neighbourhood, has received the ever-memorable name of the field
of Waterloo.

Wellington was now about twelve miles distant, on a line running

from west to east, from Wavre, where the Prussian army had now
been completely reorganised and collected, and where it had been
strengthened by the junction of Bulow's troops, which had taken
no part in the battle of Ligny. Blucher sent word from Wavre to
the Duke, that he was coming to help the English at Mont St.
Jean, in the morning, not with one corps, but with his whole
army. The fiery old man only stipulated that the combined
armies, if not attacked by Napoleon on the 18th, should
themselves attack him on the 19th. So far were Blucher and his
army from being in the state of annihilation described in the
boastful bulletin by which Napoleon informed the Parisians of his
victory at Ligny. Indeed, the French Emperor seems himself to
have been misinformed as to the extent of loss which he had
inflicted on the Prussians. Had he known in what good order and
with what undiminished spirit they were retiring, he would
scarcely have delayed sending a large force to press them in
their retreat until noon on the 17th. Such, however, was the
case. It was about that time that he confided to Marshal Grouchy
the duty of pursuing the defeated Prussians, and preventing them
from joining Wellington. He placed for this purpose 32,000 men
and 96 guns under his orders. Violent complaints and
recriminations passed afterwards between the Emperor and the
marshal respecting the manner in which Grouchy attempted to
perform this duty, and the reasons why he failed on the 18th to
arrest the lateral movement of the Prussians from Wavre to
Waterloo. It is sufficient to remark here, that the force which
Napoleon gave to Grouchy (though the utmost that the Emperor's
limited means would allow) was insufficient to make head against
the entire Prussian army, especially after Bulow's junction with
Blucher. We shall presently have occasion to consider what
opportunities were given to Grouchy during the 18th, and what he
might have effected if he had been a man of original military
genius.

But the failure of Grouchy was in truth mainly owing to the

indomitable heroism of Blucher himself; who, though he had
received severe personal injuries in the battle of Ligny, was as
energetic and ready as ever in bringing his men into action
again, and who had the resolution to expose a part of his army,
under Thielman, to be overwhelmed by Grouchy at Wavre on the
18th, while he urged the march of the mass of his troops upon
Waterloo. "It is not at Wavre, but at Waterloo," said the old
Field-Marshal, "that the campaign is to be decided;" and he
risked a detachment, and won the campaign accordingly.
Wellington and Blucher trusted each other as cordially, and co-
operated as zealously, as formerly had been the case with
Marlborough and Eugene. It was in full reliance on Blucher's
promise to join him that the Duke stood his ground and fought at
Waterloo; and those who have ventured to impugn the Duke's
capacity as a general, ought to have had common-sense enough to
perceive, that to charge the Duke with having won the battle of
Waterloo by the help of the Prussians, is really to say that he
won it by the very means on which he relied, and without the
expectation of which the battle would not have been fought.

Napoleon himself has found fault with Wellington for not having
retreated further, so as to complete a junction of his army with
Blucher's before he risked a general engagement. [See
Montholon's Memoirs, vol. iv. p. 44.] But, as we have seen, the
Duke justly considered it important to protect Brussels. He had
reason to expect that his army could singly resist the French at
Waterloo until the Prussians came up; and that, on the Prussians
joining, there would be a sufficient force united under himself
and Blucher for completely overwhelming the enemy. And while
Napoleon thus censures his great adversary, he involuntarily
bears the highest possible testimony to the military character of
the English, and proves decisively of what paramount importance
was the battle to which he challenged his fearless opponent.
Napoleon asks, "IF THE ENGLISH ARMY HAD BEEN BEATEN AT WATERLOO,
WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE USE OF THOSE NUMEROUS BODIES OF TROOPS,
OF PRUSSIANS, AUSTRIANS, GERMANS, AND SPANIARDS, WHICH WERE
ADVANCING BY FORCED MARCHES TO THE RHINE, THE ALPS, AND THE
PYRENEES?" [Ibid.]

The strength of the army under the Duke of Wellington at Waterloo

was 49,608 infantry, 12,402 cavalry, and 5,645 artillerymen with
156 guns. [Siborne, vol. i. p. 376.] But of this total of
67,655 men, scarcely 24,000 were British, a circumstance of very
serious importance, if Napoleon's own estimate of the relative
value of troops of different nations is to be taken. In the
Emperor's own words, speaking of this campaign, "A French soldier
would not be equal to more than one English soldier, but he would
not be afraid to meet two Dutchmen, Prussians, or soldiers of the
Confederation." [Montholon's Memoirs, vol. iv. p. 41.] There
were about 6,000 men of the old German Legion with the Duke;
these were veteran troops, and of excellent quality. Of the
rest of the army the Hanoverians and Brunswickers proved
themselves deserving of confidence and praise. But the
Nassauers, Dutch, and Belgians were almost worthless; and not a
few of them were justly suspected of a strong wish to fight, if
they fought at all, under the French eagles rather than against
them.

Napoleon's army at Waterloo consisted of 48,950 infantry, 15,765

cavalry, 7,232 artillerymen, being a total of 71,947 men, and 246
guns. [See Siborne, UT SUPRA.] They were the flower of the
national forces of France; and of all the numerous gallant armies
which that martial land has poured forth, never was there one
braver, or better disciplined, or better led, than the host that
took up its position at Waterloo on the morning of the 18th of
June, 1815.

Perhaps those who have not seen the field of battle at Waterloo,
or the admirable model of the ground, and of the conflicting
armies, which was executed by Captain Siborne, may gain a
generally accurate idea of the localities, by picturing to
themselves a valley between two and three miles long, of various
breadths at different points, but generally not exceeding half a
mile. On each side of the valley there is a winding chain of low
hills running somewhat parallel, with each other. The declivity
from each of these ranges of hills to the intervening valley is
gentle but not uniform, the undulations of the ground being
frequent and considerable. The English army was posted on the
northern, and the French army occupied the southern ridge. The
artillery of each side thundered at the other from their
respective heights throughout the day, and the charges of horse
and foot were made across the valley that has been described.
The village of Mont St. Jean is situate a little behind the
centre of the northern chain of hills, and the village of La
Belle Alliance is close behind the centre of the southern ridge.
The high road from Charleroi to Brussels (a broad paved causeway)
runs through both these villages, and bisects therefore both the
English and the French positions. The line of this road was the
line of Napoleon's intended advance on Brussels.

There are some other local particulars connected with the

situation of each army, which it is necessary to bear in mind.
The strength of the British position did not consist merely in
the occupation of a ridge of high ground. A village and ravine,
called Merk Braine, on the Duke of Wellington's extreme right,
secured his flank from being turned on that side; and on his
extreme left, two little hamlets called La Haye and Papelotte,
gave a similar, though a slighter, protection. Behind the whole
British position is the extensive forest of Soignies. As no
attempt was made by the French to turn either of the English
flanks, and the battle was a day of straightforward fighting, it
is chiefly important to ascertain what posts there were in front
of the British line of hills, of which advantage could be taken
either to repel or facilitate an attack; and it will be seen that
there were two, and that each was of very great importance in the
action. In front of the British right, that is to say, on the
northern slope of the valley towards its western end, there stood
an old-fashioned Flemish farm-house called Goumont, or
Hougoumont, with out-buildings and a garden, and with a copse of
beach trees of about two acres in extent round it. This was
strongly garrisoned by the allied troops; and, while it was in
their possession, it was difficult for the enemy to press on and
force the British right wing. On the other hand, if the enemy
could take it, it would be difficult for that wing to keep its
ground on the heights, with a strong post held adversely in its
immediate front, being one that; would give much shelter to the
enemy's marksmen, and great facilities for the sudden
concentration of attacking columns. Almost immediately in front
of the British centre, and not so far down the slope as
Hougoumont, there was another farm-house, of a smaller size,
called La Haye Sainte, [Not to be confounded with the hamlet of
La Haye at the extreme left of the British line.] which was also
held by the British troops, and the occupation of which was found
to be of very serious consequence.

With respect to the French position, the principal feature to be

noticed is the village of Planchenoit, which lay a little in the
rear of their right (I.E. on the eastern side), and which proved
to be of great importance in aiding them to check the advance of
the Prussians.

Napoleon, in his memoirs, and other French writers, have

vehemently blamed the Duke for having given battle in such a
position as that of Waterloo. They particularly object that the
Duke fought without having the means of a retreat, if the attacks
of his enemy had proved successful; and that the English army, if
once broken, must have lost all its guns and MATERIEL in its
flight through the Forest of Soignies, that lay in its rear. In
answer to these censures, instead of merely referring to the
event of the battle as proof of the correctness of the Duke's
judgment, it is to be observed that many military critics of high
authority, have considered the position of Waterloo to have been
admirably adapted for the Duke's purpose of protecting Brussels
by a battle; and that certainly the Duke's opinion in favour of
it was not lightly or hastily formed. It is a remarkable fact
(mentioned in the speech of Lord Bathurst when moving the vote of
thanks to the Duke in the House of Lords), [Parliamentary
Debates, vol. xxxi. p. 875.] that when the Duke of Wellington
was passing through Belgium in the preceding summer of 1814, he
particularly noticed the strength of the position of Waterloo,
and made a minute of it at the time, stating to those who were
with him, that if it ever should be his fate to fight a battle in
that quarter for the protection of Brussels, he should endeavour
to do so in that position. And with respect to the Forest of
Soignies, which the French (and some few English) critics have
thought calculated to prove so fatal to a retreating force, the
Duke on the contrary believed it to be a post that might have
proved of infinite value to his army in the event of his having
been obliged to give way. The Forest of Soignies has no thicket
or masses of close-growing trees. It consists of tall beeches,
and is everywhere passable for men and horses. The artillery
could have been withdrawn by the broad road which traverses it
towards Brussels; and in the meanwhile a few regiments of
resolute infantry could have held the forest and kept the
pursuers in check. One of the best writers on the Waterloo
campaign, Captain Pringle, [See the Appendix to the 8th volume of
Scott's Life of Napoleon.] well observes that "every person, the
least experienced in war, knows the extreme difficulty of forcing
infantry from a wood which cannot be turned." The defence of the
Bois de Bossu near Quatre Bras on the 16th of June had given a
good proof of this; and the Duke of Wellington, when speaking in
after years of the possible events that might have followed if he
had been beaten back from the open field of Waterloo, pointed to
the wood of Soignies as his secure rallying place, saying, "they
never could have beaten us so, that we could not have held the
wood against them." He was always confident that he could have
made good that post until joined by the Prussians, upon whose co-
operation he throughout depended." [See Lord Ellesmere's Life
and Character of the Duke of Wellington, p. 40.]

As has been already mentioned, the Prussians, on the morning of

the 18th, were at Wavre, which is about twelve miles to the east
of the field of battle of Waterloo. The junction of Bulow's
division had more than made up for the loss sustained at Ligny;
and leaving Thielman with about seventeen thousand men to hold
his ground, as he best could, against the attack which Grouchy
was about to make on Wavre, Bulow and Blucher moved with the rest
of the Prussians through St. Lambert upon Waterloo. It was
calculated that they would be there by three o'clock; but the
extremely difficult nature of the ground which they had to
traverse, rendered worse by the torrents of rain that had just
fallen, delayed them long on their twelve miles' march.

An army indeed, less animated by bitter hate against the enemy

than was the Prussians, and under a less energetic chief than
Blucher, would have failed altogether in effecting a passage
through the swamps, into which the incessant rain had transformed
the greater part of the ground through which it was necessary to
move not only with columns of foot, but with cavalry and
artillery. At one point of the march, on entering the defile of
St. Lambert, the spirits of the Prussians almost gave way.
Exhausted in the attempts to extricate and drag forward the heavy
guns, the men began to murmur. Blucher came to the spot, and
heard cries from the ranks of--"We cannot get on." "But you
must get on," was the old Field-Marshal's answer. "I have
pledged my word to Wellington, and you surely will not make me
break it. Only exert yourselves for a few hours longer, and we
are sure of victory." This appeal from old "Marshal Forwards," as
the Prussian soldiers loved to call Blucher, had its wonted
affect. The Prussians again moved forward, slowly, indeed, and
with pain and toil; but still they moved forward. [See Siborne,
vol. ii. p. 137.]

The French and British armies lay on the open field during the
wet and stormy night of the 17th; and when the dawn of the
memorable 18th of June broke, the rain was still descending
heavily upon Waterloo. The rival nations rose from their dreary
bivouacs, and began to form, each on the high ground which it
occupied. Towards nine the weather grew clearer, and each army
was able to watch the position and arrangements of the other on
the opposite side of the valley.

The Duke of Wellington drew up his army in two lines; the

principal one being stationed near the crest of the ridge of
hills already described, and the other being arranged along the
slope in the rear of his position. Commencing from the eastward,
on the extreme left of the first or main line, were Vivian's and
Vandeleur's brigades of light cavalry, and the fifth Hanoverian
brigade of infantry, under Von Vincke. Then came Best's fourth
Hanoverian brigade. Detachments from these bodies of troops
occupied the little villages of Papelotte and La Haye, down the
hollow in advance of the left of the Duke's position. To the
right of Best's Hanoverians, Bylandt's brigade of Dutch and
Belgian infantry was drawn up on the outer slope of the heights.
Behind them were the ninth brigade of British infantry under
Pack; and to the right of these last, but more in advance, stood
the eighth brigade of English infantry under Kempt. These were
close to the Charleroi road, and to the centre of the entire
position. These two English brigades, with the fifth Hanoverian,
made up the fifth division, commanded by Sir Thomas Picton.
Immediately to their right, and westward of the Charleroi road,
stood the third division, commanded by General Alten, and
consisting of Ompteda's brigade of the King's German legion, and
Kielmansegge's Hanoverian brigade. The important post of La Haye
Sainte, which it will be remembered lay in front of the Duke's
centre, close to the Charleroi road, was garrisoned with troops
from this division. Westward, and on the right of Kielmansegge's
Hanoverians, stood the fifth British brigade under Halkett; and
behind, Kruse's Nassau brigade was posted. On the right of
Halkett's men stood the English Guards. They were in two
brigades, one commanded By Maitland, and the other by Byng. The
entire division was under General Cooke. The buildings and
gardens of Hougoumont, which lay immediately under the height, on
which stood the British Guards, were principally manned by
detachments from Byng's Brigade, aided by some brave Hanoverian
riflemen, and accompanied by a battalion of a Nassau regiment.
On a plateau in the rear of Cooks's division of Guards, and
inclining westward towards the village of Merk Braine, were
Clinton's second infantry division, composed of Adams's third
brigade of light infantry, Du Plat's first brigade of the King's
German legion, and third Hanoverian brigade under Colonel
Halkett.

The Duke formed his second line of cavalry. This only extended
behind the right and centre of his first line. The largest mass
was drawn up behind the brigades of infantry in the centre, on
either side of the Charleroi road. The brigade of household
cavalry under Lord Somerset was on the immediate right of the
road, and on the left of it was Ponsonby's brigade. Behind these
were Trip's and Ghingy's brigades of Dutch and Belgian horse.
The third Hussars of the King's German Legion were to the right
of Somerset's brigade. To the right of these, and behind
Maitland's infantry, stood the third brigade under Dornberg,
consisting of the 23d English Light Dragoons, and the regiments
of Light Dragoons of the King's German Legion. The last cavalry
on the right was Grant's brigade, stationed in the rear of the
Foot-Guards. The corps of Brunswickers, both horse and foot, and
the 10th British brigade of foot, were in reserve behind the
centre and right of the entire position. The artillery was
distributed at convenient intervals along the front of the whole
line. Besides the Generals who have been mentioned, Lord Hill,
Lord Uxbridge (who had the general command of the cavalry), the
Prince of Orange, and General Chasse, were present, and acting
under the Duke.

[Prince Frederick's force remained at Hal, and took no part in

the battle of the 18th. The reason for this arrangement (which
has been much cavilled at), may be best given in the words of
Baron Muffling:--"The Duke had retired from Quatre Bras in three
columns, by three chaussees; and on the evening of the 17th,
Prince Frederick of Orange was at Hal, Lord Hill at Braine la
Leud, and the Prince of Orange with the reserve, at Mont St.
Jean. This distribution was necessary, as Napoleon could dispose
of these three roads for his advance on Brussels. Napoleon on
the 17th had pressed on by Genappe as far as Rossomme. On the
two other roads no enemy had yet shown himself. On the 18th the
offensive was taken by Napoleon on its greatest scale, but still
the Nivelles road was not overstepped by his left wing. These
circumstances made it possible to draw Prince Frederick to the
army, which would certainly have been done if entirely new
circumstances had not arisen. The Duke had, twenty-four hours
before, pledged himself to accept a battle at Mont St. Jean if
Blucher would assist him there with one corps, of 25,000 men.
This being promised, the Duke was taking his measures for
defence, when be learned that, in addition to the one corps
promised, Blucher was actually already on the march with his
whole force, to break in by Planchenoit on Napoleon's flank and
rear. If three corps of the Prussian army should penetrate by
the unguarded plateau of Rossomme, which was not improbable,
Napoleon would be thrust from his line of retreat by Genappe, and
might possibly lose even that by Nivelles. In this case Prince
Frederick with his 18,000 men (who might be accounted superfluous
at Mont St.Jean), might have rendered the most essential
service."--See Muffling, p. 246 and the QUARTERLY REVIEW, No.
178. It is also worthy of observation that Napoleon actually
detached a force of 2,000 cavalry to threaten Hal, though they
returned to the main French army during the night of the 17th.
See "Victoires at Conquetes des Francais," vol. xxiv. p 186.]

On the opposite heights the French army was drawn up in two

general lines, with the entire force of the Imperial Guards,
cavalry as well as infantry, in rear of the centre, as a reserve.

The first line of the French army was formed of the two corps
commanded by Count d'Erlon and Count Reille. D'Erlon's corps was
on the right, that is, eastward of the Charleroi road, and
consisted of four divisions of infantry under Generals Durette,
Marcognet, Alix, and Donzelot, and of one division of light
cavalry under General Jaquinot. Count Reille's corps formed the
left or western wing, and was formed of Bachelu's, Foy's, and
Jerome Bonaparte's divisions of infantry, and of Pire's division
of cavalry. The right wing of the second general French line was
formed of Milhaud's corps, consisting of two divisions of heavy
cavalry. The left wing of this line was formed by Kellerman's
cavalry corps, also in two divisions. Thus each of the corps of
infantry that composed the first line had a corps of cavalry
behind it; but the second line consisted also of Lobau's corps of
infantry, and Domont and Subervie's divisions of light cavalry;
these three bodies of troops being drawn up on either side of La
Belle Alliance, and forming the centre of the second line. The
third, or reserve line, had its centre composed of the infantry
of the Imperial Guard. Two regiments of grenadiers and two of
chasseurs, formed the foot of the Old Guard under General Friant.
The Middle Guard, under Count Morand, was similarly composed;
while two regiments of voltigeurs, and two of tirailleurs, under
Duhesme, constituted the Young Guard. The chasseurs and lancers
of the Guard were on the right of the infantry, under Lefebvre
Desnouettes; and the grenadiers and dragoons of the Guards, under
Guyot, were on the left. All the French corps comprised, besides
their cavalry and infantry regiments, strong batteries of horse
artillery; and Napoleon's numerical superiority in guns was of
deep importance throughout the action.

Besides the leading generals who have been mentioned as

commanding particular corps, Ney and Soult were present, and
acted as the Emperor's lieutenants in the battle.

English military critics have highly eulogised the admirable

arrangement which Napoleon made of his forces of each arm, so as
to give him the most ample means of sustaining, by an immediate
and sufficient support, any attack, from whatever point he might
direct it; and of drawing promptly together a strong force, to
resist any attack that might be made on himself in any part of
the field. [Siborne, vol. i. p. 376.] When his troops were all
arrayed, he rode along the lines, receiving everywhere the most
enthusiastic cheers from his men, of whose entire devotion to him
his assurance was now doubly sure. On the northern side of the
valley the Duke's army was also drawn up, and ready to meet the
menaced attack.

Wellington had caused, on the preceding night, every brigade and

corps to take up its station on or near the part of the ground
which it was intended to hold in the coming battle. He had slept
a few hours at his headquarters in the village of Waterloo; and
rising on the 18th, while it was yet deep night, he wrote several
letters to the Governor of Antwerp, to the English Minister at
Brussels, and other official personages, in which he expressed
his confidence that all would go well, but "as it was necessary
to provide against serious losses; should any accident occur, he
gave a series of judicious orders for what should be done in the
rear of the army, in the event of the battle going against the
Allies. He also, before he left the village of Waterloo, saw to
the distribution of the reserves of ammunition which had been
parked there, so that supplies should be readily forwarded to
every part of the line of battle, where they might be required,
The Duke, also, personally inspected the arrangements that had
been made for receiving the wounded, and providing temporary
hospitals in the houses in the rear of the army. Then, mounting
a favourite charger, a small thorough-bred chestnut horse, named
"Copenhagen," Wellington rode forward to the range of hills where
his men were posted. Accompanied by his staff and by the
Prussian General Muffling, he rode along his lines, carefully
inspecting all the details of his position. Hougoumont was the
object of his special attention. He rode down to the south-
eastern extremity of its enclosures, and after having examined
the nearest French troops, he made some changes in the
disposition of his own men, who were to defend that important
post.
Having given his final orders about Hougoumont, the Duke galloped
back to the high ground in the right centre of his position; and
halting there, sat watching the enemy on the opposite heights,
and conversing with his staff with that cheerful serenity which
was ever his characteristic in the hour of battle.

Not all brave men are thus gifted; and many a glance of anxious
excitement must have been cast across the valley that separated
the two hosts during the protracted pause which ensued between
the completion of Napoleon's preparations for attack and the
actual commencement of the contest. It was, indeed, an awful
calm before the coming storm, when armed myriads stood gazing on
their armed foes, scanning their number, their array, their
probable powers of resistance and destruction, and listening with
throbbing hearts for the momentarily expected note of death;
while visions of victory and glory came thronging on each
soldier's high-strung brain, not unmingled with recollections of
the home which his fall might soon leave desolate, nor without
shrinking nature sometimes prompting the cold thought, that in a
few moments he might be writhing in agony, or lie a trampled and
mangled mass of clay on the grass now waving so freshly and
purely before him.

Such thoughts WILL arise in human breasts, though the brave man
soon silences "the child within us that trembles before death,"
[See Plato, Phaedon, c. 60; and Grote's History of Greece, vol.
viii. p. 656.] and nerves himself for the coming struggle by the
mental preparation which Xenophon has finely called "the
soldier's arraying his own soul for battle." [Hellenica, lib.
vii. c. v. s. 22.] Well, too, may we hope and believe that many
a spirit sought aid from a higher and holier source; and that
many a fervent though silent prayer arose on that Sabbath morn
(the battle of Waterloo was fought on a Sunday) to the Lord of
Sabaoth, the God of Battles, from the ranks, whence so many
thousands were about to appear that day before his judgment-seat.

Not only to those who were thus present as spectators and actors
in the dread drama, but to all Europe, the decisive contest then
impending between the rival French and English nations, each
under its chosen chief was the object of exciting interest and
deepest solicitude. "Never, indeed, had two such generals as the
Duke of Wellington and the Emperor Napoleon encountered since the
day when Scipio and Hannibal met at Zama." [See SUPRA, p. 82.]

The two great champions, who now confronted each other, were
equals in years, and each had entered the military profession at
the same early age. The more conspicuous stage, on which the
French general's youthful genius was displayed, his heritage of
the whole military power of the French Republic, the position on
which for years he was elevated as sovereign head of an empire
surpassing that of Charlemagne, and the dazzling results of his
victories, which made and unmade kings, had given him a
formidable pre-eminence in the eyes of mankind. Military men
spoke with justly rapturous admiration of the brilliancy of his
first Italian campaigns, when he broke through the pedantry of
traditional tactics, and with a small but promptly-wielded force,
shattered army after army of the Austrians, conquered provinces
and capitals, dictated treaties, and annihilated or created
states. The iniquity of his Egyptian expedition was too often
forgotten in contemplating the skill and boldness with which he
destroyed the Mameluke cavalry at the Pyramids, and the Turkish
infantry at Aboukir. None could forget the marvellous passage of
the Alps in 1800, or the victory of Marengo, which wrested Italy
back from Austria, and destroyed the fruit of twenty victories,
which the enemies of France had gained over her in the absence of
her favourite chief. Even higher seemed the glories of his
German campaigns, the triumphs of Ulm, of Austerlitz, of Jena, of
Wagram. Napoleon's disasters in Russia, in 1812, were imputed by
his admirers to the elements; his reverses in Germany, in 1813,
were attributed by them to treachery: and even those two
calamitous years had been signalised by his victories at
Borodino, at Lutzen, at Bautzen, at Dresden, and at Hanau. His
last campaign, in the early months of 1814, was rightly cited as
the most splendid exhibition of his military genius, when, with a
far inferior army, he long checked and frequently defeated the
vast hosts that were poured upon France. His followers fondly
hoped that the campaign of 1815 would open with another "week of
miracles," like that which had seen his victories at Montmirail
and Montereau. The laurel of Ligny was even now fresh upon his
brows. Blucher had not stood before him; and who was the
Adversary that now should bar the Emperor's way?

That Adversary had already overthrown the Emperor's best

generals, and the Emperor's best armies; and, like Napoleon
himself, had achieved a reputation in more than European wars.
Wellington was illustrious as the destroyer of the Mahratta
power, as the liberator of Portugal and Spain, and the successful
invader of Southern France. In early youth he had held high
command in India; and had displayed eminent skill in planning and
combining movements, and unrivalled celerity and boldness in
execution. On his return to Europe several years passed away
before any fitting opportunity was accorded for the exercise of
his genius. In this important respect, Wellington, as a subject,
and Napoleon, as a sovereign, were far differently situated. At
length his appointment to the command in the Spanish Peninsula
gave him the means of showing Europe that England had a general
who could revive the glories of Crecy, of Poictiers, of
Agincourt, of Blenheim, and of Ramilies. At the head of forces
always numerically far inferior to the armies with which Napoleon
deluged the Peninsula;--thwarted by jealous and incompetent
allies;--ill-supported by friends, and assailed by factious
enemies at home; Wellington maintained the war for several years,
unstained by any serious reverse, and marked by victory in
thirteen pitched battles, at Vimiera, the Douro, Talavera,
Busaco, Fuentes d'Onore, Salamanca, Vittoria, the Pyrenees, the
Bidassoa, the Nive, the Nivelle, Orthes, and Toulouse. Junot,
Victor, Massena, Ney, Marmont, and Jourdain,--marshals whose
names were the terrors of continental Europe--had been baffled by
his skill, and smitten down by his energy, while he liberated the
kingdoms of the Peninsula from them and their Imperial master.
In vain did Napoleon at last despatch Soult, the ablest of his
lieutenants, to turn the tide of Wellington's success and defend
France against the English invader. Wellington met Soult's
manoeuvres with superior skill, and his boldness with superior
vigour. When Napoleon's first abdication, in 1814, suspended
hostilities, Wellington was master of the fairest districts of
Southern France; and had under him a veteran army, with which (to
use his own expressive phrase) "he felt he could have gone
anywhere and done anything." The fortune of war had hitherto
kept separate the orbits in which Napoleon and he had moved.
Now, on the ever memorable 18th of June, 1815, they met at last.

It is, indeed, remarkable that Napoleon, during his numerous

campaigns in Spain as well as other countries, not only never
encountered the Duke of Wellington before the day of Waterloo,
but that he was never until then personally engaged with British
troops, except at the siege of Toulon, in 1793, which was the
very first incident of his military career. Many, however, of
the French generals who were with him in 1815, knew well, by
sharp experience, what English soldiers were, and what the leader
was who now headed them. Ney, Foy, and other officers who had
served in the Peninsula, warned Napoleon that he would find the
English infantry "very devils in fight." The Emperor, however,
persisted in employing the old system of attack, with which the
French generals often succeeded against continental troops, but
which had always failed against the English in the Peninsula. He
adhered to his usual tactics of employing the order of the
column; a mode of attack probably favoured by him (as Sir Walter
Scott remarks) on account of his faith in the extreme valour of
the French officers by whom the column was headed. It is a
threatening formation, well calculated to shake the firmness of
ordinary foes; but which, when steadily met, as the English have
met it, by heavy volleys of musketry from an extended line,
followed up by a resolute bayonet charge, has always resulted in
disaster to the assailants. [See especially Sir W. Napier's
glorious pictures of the battles of Busaco and Albuera. The
THEORETICAL advantages of the attack in column, and its peculiar
fitness for a French army, are set forth in the Chevalier
Folard's "Traite de la Colonne," prefixed to the first volume of
his "Polybius," See also the preface to his sixth volume.]

It was approaching noon before the action commenced. Napoleon,

in his Memoirs, gives as the reason for this delay, the miry
state of the ground through the heavy rain of the preceding night
and day, which rendered it impossible for cavalry or artillery to
manoeuvre on it till a few hours of dry weather had given it its
natural consistency. It has been supposed, also, that he trusted
to the effect which the sight of the imposing array of his own
forces was likely to produce on the part of the allied army. The
Belgian regiments had been tampered with; and Napoleon had well-
founded hopes of seeing them quit the Duke of Wellington in a
body, and range themselves under his own eagles. The Duke,
however, who knew and did not trust them, had guarded against the
risk of this, by breaking up the corps of Belgians, and
distributing them in separate regiments among troops on whom he
could rely. [Siborne, vol. i. p. 373.]

At last, at about half-past eleven o'clock, Napoleon began the

battle by directing a powerful force from his left wing under his
brother, Prince Jerome, to attack Hougoumont. Column after
column of the French now descended from the west of the southern
heights, and assailed that post with fiery valour, which was
encountered with the most determined bravery. The French won the
copse round the house, but a party of the British Guards held the
house itself throughout the day. The whole of Byng's brigade was
required to man this hotly-contested post. Amid shell and shot,
and the blazing fragments of part of the buildings, this
obstinate contest was continued. But still the English were firm
in Hougoumont; though the French occasionally moved forward in
such numbers as enabled them to surround and mask it with part of
their troops from their left wing, while others pressed onward up
the slope, and assailed the British right.

The cannonade, which commenced at first between the British right

and the French left, in consequence of the attack on Hougoumont,
soon became general along both lines; and about one o'clock,
Napoleon directed a grand attack to be made under Marshal Ney
upon the centre and left wing of the allied army. For this
purpose four columns of infantry, amounting to about eighteen
thousand men, were collected, supported by a strong division of
cavalry under the celebrated Kellerman; and seventy-four guns
were brought forward ready to be posted on the ridge of a little
undulation of the ground in the interval between the two
principal chains of heights, so as to bring their fire to bear on
the Duke's line at a range of about seven hundred yards. By the
combined assault of these formidable forces, led on by Ney, "the
bravest of the brave," Napoleon hoped to force the left centre of
the British position, to take La Haye Sainte, and then pressing
forward, to occupy also the farm of Mont St. Jean. He then could
cut the mass of Wellington's troops off from their line of
retreat upon Brussels, and from their own left, and also
completely sever them from any Prussian troops that might be
approaching.

The columns destined for this great and decisive operation

descended majestically from the French line of hills, and gained
the ridge of the intervening eminence, on which the batteries
that supported them were now ranged. As the columns descended
again from this eminence, the seventy-four guns opened over their
heads with terrible effect upon the troops of the Allies that
were stationed on the heights to the left of the Charleroi road.
One of the French columns kept to the east, and attacked the
extreme left of the Allies; the other three continued to move
rapidly forwards upon the left centre of the allied position.
The front line of the Allies here was composed of Bylandt's
brigade of Dutch and Belgians. As the French columns moved up
the southward slope of the height on which the Dutch and Belgians
stood, and the skirmishers in advance began to open their fire,
Bylandt's entire brigade turned and fled in disgraceful and
disorderly panic; but there were men more worthy of the name
behind.

In this part of-the second line of the Allies were posted Pack
and Kempt's brigades of English infantry, which had suffered
severely at Quatre Bras. But Picton was here as general of
division, and not even Ney himself surpassed in resolute bravery
that stern and fiery spirit. Picton brought his two brigades
forward, side by side, in a thin, two-deep line. Thus joined
together, they were not three thousand strong. With these Picton
had to make head against the three victorious French columns,
upwards of four times that strength, and who, encouraged by the
easy rout of the Dutch and Belgians, now came confidently over
the ridge of the hill. The British infantry stood firm; and as
the French halted and began to deploy into line, Picton seized
the critical moment. He shouted in his stentorian voice to
Kempt's brigade: "A volley, and then charge!" At a distance of
less than thirty yards that volley was poured upon the devoted
first sections of the nearest column; and then, with a fierce
hurrah, the British dashed in with the bayonet. Picton was shot
dead as he rushed forward, but his men pushed on with the cold
steel. The French reeled back in confusion. Pack's infantry had
checked the other two columns and down came a whirlwind of
British horse on the whole mass, sending them staggering from the
crest of the hill, and cutting them down by whole battalions.
Ponsonby's brigade of heavy cavalry (the Union Brigade as it was
called, from its being made up of the British Royals, the Scots
Greys, and the Irish Inniskillings), did this good service. On
went the horsemen amid the wrecks of the French columns,
capturing two eagles, and two thousand prisoners; onwards still
they galloped, and sabred the artillerymen of Ney's seventy-four
advanced guns; then severing the traces, and cutting the throats
of the artillery horses, they rendered these guns totally useless
to the French throughout the remainder of the day. While thus
far advanced beyond the British position and disordered by
success, they were charged by a large body of French lancers, and
driven back with severe loss, till Vandeleur's Light horse came
to their aid, and beat off the French lancers in their turn.

Equally unsuccessful with the advance of the French infantry in

this grand attack, had been the efforts of the French cavalry who
moved forward in support of it, along the east of the Charleroi
road. Somerset's cavalry of the English Household Brigade had
been launched, on the right of Picton's division, against the
French horse, at the same time that the English Union Brigade of
heavy horse charged the French infantry columns on the left.

Somerset's brigade was formed of the Life Guards, the Blues, and
the Dragoon Guards. The hostile cavalry, which Kellerman led
forward, consisted chiefly of Cuirassiers. This steel-clad mass
of French horsemen rode down some companies of German infantry,
near La Haye Sainte, and flushed with success, they bounded
onward to the ridge of the British position. The English
Household Brigade, led on by the Earl of Uxbridge in person,
spurred forward to the encounter, and in an instant, the two
adverse lines of strong swordsmen, on their strong steeds, dashed
furiously together. A desperate and sanguinary hand-to-hand
fight ensued, in which the physical superiority of the Anglo-
Saxons, guided by equal skill, and animated with equal valour,
was made decisively manifest. Back went the chosen cavalry of
France; and after them, in hot pursuit, spurred the English
Guards. They went forward as far and as fiercely as their
comrades of the Union Brigade; and, like them, the Household
cavalry suffered severely before they regained the British
position, after their magnificent charge and adventurous pursuit.

Napoleon's grand effort to break the English left centre had thus
completely failed; and his right wing was seriously weakened by
the heavy loss which it had sustained. Hougoumont was still
being assailed, and was still successfully resisting. Troops
were now beginning to appear at the edge of the horizon on
Napoleon's right, which he too well knew to be Prussian, though
he endeavoured to persuade his followers that they were Grouchy's
men coming to their aid.

Grouchy was in fact now engaged at Wavre with his whole force,
against Thielmam's single Prussian corps, while the other three
corps of the Prussian army were moving without opposition, save
from the difficulties of the ground, upon Waterloo. Grouchy
believed, on the 17th, and caused Napoleon to believe, that the
Prussian army was retreating by lines of march remote from
Waterloo upon Namur and Maestricht. Napoleon learned only on the
18th, that there were Prussians in Wavre, and felt jealous about
the security of his own right. He accordingly, before he
attacked the English, sent Grouchy orders to engage the Prussians
at Wavre without delay, AND TO APPROACH THE MAIN FRENCH ARMY, SO
AS TO UNITE HIS COMMUNICATIONS WITH THE EMPEROR'S. Grouchy
entirely neglected this last part of his instructions; and in
attacking the Prussians whom he found at Wavre, he spread his
force more and more towards his right, that is to say, in the
direction most remote from Napoleon. He thus knew nothing of
Blucher's and Bulow's flank march upon Waterloo, till six in the
evening of the 18th, when he received a note which Soult by
Napoleon's orders had sent off from the field of battle at
Waterloo at one o'clock, to inform Grouchy that Bulow was coming
over the heights of St. Lambert, on the Emperor's right flank,
and directing Grouchy to approach and join the main army
instantly, and crush Bulow EN FLAGRANT DELIT. It was then too
late for Grouchy to obey; but it is remarkable that as early as
noon on the 18th, and while Grouchy had not proceeded as far as
Wavre, he and his suite heard, the sound of heavy cannonading In
the direction of Planchenoit and Mont St. Jean. General Gerard,
who was with Grouchy, implored him to march towards the
cannonade, and join his operations with those of Napoleon, who
was evidently engaged with the English. Grouchy refused to do
so, or even to detach part of his force in that direction. He
said that his instructions were to fight the Prussians at Wavre.
He marched upon Wavre and fought for the rest of the day with
Thielman accordingly, while Blucher and Bulow were attacking the
Emperor.

[I have heard the remark made that Grouchy twice had in his hands
the power of changing the destinies of Europe, and twice wanted
nerve to act: first when he flinched from landing the French
army at Bantry Bay in 1796 (he was second in command to Hoche,
whose ship was blown back by a storm), and secondly, when he
failed to lead his whole force from Wavre to the scene of
decisive conflict at Waterloo. But such were the arrangements of
the Prussian General, that even if Grouchy had marched upon
Waterloo, he would have been held in check by the nearest
Prussian corps, or certainly by the two nearest ones, while the
rest proceeded to join Wellington. This, however, would have
diminished the number of Prussians who appeared at Waterloo, and
(what is still more important) would have kept them back to a
later hour.--See Siborne, vol i. p. 323, and Gleig, p. 142.

There are some very valuable remarks on this subject in the 70th
No. of the QUARTERLY in an article on the "Life of Blucher,"
usually attributed to Sir Francis Head. The Prussian writer,
General Clausewitz, is there cited as "expressing a positive
opinion, in which every military critic but a Frenchman must
concur, that, even had the whole of Grouchy's force been at
Napoleon's disposal, the Duke had nothing to fear pending
Blucher's arrival.

"The Duke is often talked of as having exhausted his reserves in

the action. This is another gross error, which Clausewitz has
thoroughly disposed of. He enumerates the tenth British Brigade,
the division of Chasse, and the cavalry of Collaert, as having
been little or not at all engaged; and he might have also added
two brigades of light cavalry." The fact, also, that Wellington
did not at any part of the day order up Prince Frederick's corps
from Hal, is a conclusive proof that the Duke was not so
distressed as some writers have represented. Hal is not ten
miles from the field of Waterloo.]

Napoleon had witnessed with bitter disappointment the rout of his

troops,--foot, horse, and artillery,--which attacked the left
centre of the English, and the obstinate resistance which the
garrison of Hougoumont opposed to all the exertions of his left
wing. He now caused the batteries along the line of high ground
held by him to be strengthened, and for some time an unremitting
and most destructive cannonade raged across the valley, to the
partial cessation of other conflict. But the superior fire of
the French artillery, though it weakened, could not break the
British line, and more close and summary measures were requisite.

It was now about half-past three o'clock; and though Wellington's

army had suffered severely by the unremitting cannonade, and in
the late desperate encounter, no part of the British position had
been forced. Napoleon determined therefore to try what effect he
could produce on the British centre and right by charges of his
splendid cavalry, brought on in such force that the Duke's
cavalry could not check them. Fresh troops were at the same time
sent to assail La Haye Sainte and Hougoumont, the possession of
these posts being the Emperor's unceasing object. Squadron after
squadron of the French cuirassiers accordingly ascended the
slopes on the Duke's right, and rode forward with dauntless
courage against the batteries of the British artillery in that
part of the field. The artillery-men were driven from their
guns, and the cuirassiers cheered loudly at their supposed
triumph. But the Duke had formed his infantry in squares, and
the cuirassiers charged in vain against the impenetrable hedges
of bayonets, while the fire from the inner ranks of the squares
told with terrible effect on their squadrons. Time after time
they rode forward with invariably the same result: and as they
receded from each attack the British artillerymen rushed forward
from the centres of the squares, where they had taken refuge, and
plied their guns on the retiring horsemen. Nearly the whole of
Napoleon's magnificent body of heavy cavalry was destroyed in
these fruitless attempts upon the British right. But in another
part of the field fortune favoured him for a time. Two French
columns of infantry from Donzelot's division took La Haye Sainte
between six and seven o'clock, and the means were now given for
organizing another formidable attack on the centre of the Allies.
["On came the whirlwind--like the last
But fiercest sweep of tempest blast--
On came the whirlwind--steel-gleams broke
Like lightning through the rolling smoke;
The war was waked anew,
Three hundred cannon-mouths roar'd loud,
And from their throats, with flash and cloud,
Their showers of iron threw.
Beneath their fire in full career,
Rush'd on the ponderous cuirassier,
The lancer couch'd his ruthless spear,
And hurrying as to havoc near,
The cohorts' eagles flew.
In one dark torrent, broad and strong,
The advancing onset roll'd along,
Forth harbinger'd by fierce acclaim,
That, from the shroud of smoke and flame,
Peal'd wildly the imperial name.

"But on the British heart were lost

The terrors of the charging host;
For not an eye the storm that view'd
Changed its proud glance of fortitude,
Nor was one forward footstep staid,
As dropp'd the dying and the dead.
Fast as their ranks the thunders tear,
Fast they renew'd each serried square;
And on the wounded and the slain
Closed their diminish'd files again,
Till from their line scarce spears' lengths three,
Emerging from the smoke they see
Helmet, and plume, and panoply,--
Then waked their fire at once!
Each musketeer's revolving knell,
As fast, as regularly fell,
As when they practise to display
Their discipline on festal day.
Then down went helm and lance,
Down were the eagle banners sent,
Down reeling steeds and riders went,
Corslets were pierced, and pennons rent;
And, to augment the fray,
Wheeled full against their staggering flanks,
The English horsemen's foaming ranks
Forced their resistless way.
Then to the musket-knell succeeds
The clash of swords--the neigh of steeds--
As plies the smith his clanging trade,
Against the cuirass rang the blade;
And while amid their close array
The well-served cannon rent their way,
And while amid their scatter'd band
Raged the fierce rider's bloody brand,
Recoil'd in common rout and fear,
Lancer and guard and cuirassier,
Horseman and foot,--a mingled host,
Their leaders fall'n, their standards lost."--SCOTT.]
There was no time to be lost--Blucher and Bulow were beginning to
press hard upon the French right. As early as five o'clock,
Napoleon had been obliged to detach Lobau's infantry and Domont's
horse to check these new enemies. They succeeded in doing so for
a time; but as larger numbers of the Prussians came on the field,
they turned Lobau's right flank, and sent a strong force to seize
the village of Planchenoit, which, it will be remembered, lay in
the rear of the French right.

The design of the Allies was not merely to prevent Napoleon from
advancing upon Brussels, but to cut off his line of retreat and
utterly destroy his army. The defence of Planchenoit therefore
became absolutely essential for the safety of the French, and
Napoleon was obliged to send his Young Guard to occupy that
village, which was accordingly held by them with great gallantry
against the reiterated assaults of the Prussian left, under
Bulow. Three times did the Prussians fight their way into
Planchenoit, and as often did the French drive them out: the
contest was maintained with the fiercest desperation on both
sides, such being the animosity between the two nations that
quarter was seldom given or even asked. Other Prussian forces
were now appearing on the field nearer to the English left; whom
also Napoleon kept in check, by troops detached for that purpose.
Thus a large part of the French army was now thrown back on a
line at right angles with the line of that portion which still
confronted and assailed the English position. But this portion
was now numerically inferior to the force under the Duke of
Wellington, which Napoleon had been assailing throughout the day,
without gaining any other advantage than the capture of La Haye
Sainte. It is true that, owing to the gross misconduct of the
greater part of the Dutch and Belgian troops, the Duke was
obliged to rely exclusively on his English and German soldiers,
and the ranks of these had been fearfully thinned; but the
survivors stood their ground heroically, and opposed a resolute
front to every forward movement of their enemies.

On no point of the British line was the pressure more severe than
on Halkett's brigade in the right centre which was composed of
battalions of the 30th, the 33d, the 69th, and the 73d British
regiments. We fortunately can quote from the journal of a brave
officer of the 30th, a narrative of what took place in this part
of the field. [This excellent journal was published in the
"United Service Magazine" during the year 1852.] The late Major
Macready served at Waterloo in the light company of the 30th.
The extent of the peril and the carnage which Halkett's brigade
had to encounter, may be judged of by the fact that this light
company marched into the field three officers and fifty-one men,
and that at the end of the battle they stood one officer and ten
men. Major Macready's blunt soldierly account of what he
actually saw and felt, gives a far better idea of the terrific
scene, than can be gained from the polished generalisations which
the conventional style of history requires, or even from the
glowing stanzas of the poet. During the earlier part of the day
Macready and his light company were thrown forward as skirmishers
in front of the brigade; but when the French cavalry commenced
their attacks on the British right centre, he and his comrades
were ordered back. The brave soldier thus himself describes what
passed:
"Before the commencement of this attack our company and the
Grenadiers of the 73d were skirmishing briskly in the low ground,
covering our guns, and annoying those of the enemy. The line of
tirailleurs opposed to us was not stronger than our own, but on a
sudden they were reinforced by numerous bodies, and several guns
began playing on us with canister. Our poor fellows dropped very
fast, and Colonel Vigoureux, Rumley, and Pratt, were carried off
badly wounded in about two minutes. I was now commander of our
company. We stood under this hurricane of small shot till
Halkett sent to order us in, and I brought away about a third of
the light bobs; the rest were killed or wounded, and I really
wonder how one of them escaped. As our bugler was killed, I
shouted and made signals to move by the left, in order to avoid
the fire of our guns, and to put as good a face upon the business
as possible.

"When I reached Lloyd's abandoned guns, I stood near them for

about a minute to contemplate the scene: it was grand beyond
description. Hougoumont and its wood sent up a broad flame
through the dark masses of smoke that overhung the field; beneath
this cloud the French were indistinctly visible. Here a waving
mass of long red feathers could be seen; there, gleams as from a
sheet of steel showed that the cuirassiers were moving; 400
cannon were belching forth fire and death on every side; the
roaring and shouting were indistinguishably commixed--together
they gave me an idea of a labouring volcano. Bodies of infantry
and cavalry were pouring down on us, and it was time to leave
contemplation, so I moved towards our columns, which were
standing up in square. Our regiment and 73d formed one, and 33d
and 69th another; to our right beyond them were the Guards, and
on our left the Hanoverians and German legion of our division.
As I entered the rear face of our square I had to step over a
body, and looking down, recognised Harry Beers, an officer of our
Grenadiers, who about an hour before shook hands with me,
laughing, as I left the columns. I was on the usual terms of
military intimacy with poor Harry--that is to say, if either of
us had died a natural death, the other would have pitied him as a
good fellow, and smiled at his neighbour as he congratulated him
on the step; but seeing his herculean frame and animated
countenance thus suddenly stiff and motionless before me (I know
not whence the feeling could originate, for I had just seen my
dearest friend drop, almost with indifference), the tears started
in my eyes as I sighed out, 'Poor Harry!' The tear was not dry on
my cheek when poor Harry was no longer thought of. In a few
minutes after, the enemy's cavalry galloped up and crowned the
crest of our position. Our guns were abandoned, and they formed
between the two brigades, about a hundred paces in our front.
Their first charge was magnificent. As soon as they quickened
their trot into a gallop, the cuirassiers bent their heads so
that the peaks of their helmets looked like vizors, and they
seemed cased in armour from the plume to the saddle. Not a shot
was fired till they were within thirty yards, when the word was
given, and our men fired away at them. The effect was magical.
Through the smoke we could see helmets falling, cavaliers
starting from their seats with convulsive springs as they
received our balls, horses plunging and rearing in the agonies of
fright and pain, and crowds of the soldiery dismounted, part of
the squadron in retreat, but the more daring remainder backing
their horses to force them on our bayonets. Our fire soon
disposed of these gentlemen. The main body re-formed in our
front, and rapidly and gallantly repeated their attacks, In fact,
from this time (about four o'clock) till near six, we had a
constant repetition of these brave but unavailing charges. There
was no difficulty in repulsing them, but our ammunition decreased
alarmingly. At length an artillery wagon galloped up, emptied
two or three casks of cartridges into the square, and we were all
comfortable.

"The best cavalry is contemptible to a steady and well-supplied

infantry regiment; even our men saw this, and began to pity the
useless perseverance of their assailants, and, as they advanced,
would growl out, 'Here come these fools again!' One of their
superior officers tried a RUSE DE GUERRE, by advancing and
dropping his sword, as though he surrendered; some of us were
deceived by him, but Halkett ordered the men to fire, and he
coolly retired, saluting us. Their devotion was invincible. One
officer whom we had taken prisoner was asked what force Napoleon
might have in the field, and replied with a smile of mingled
derision and threatening, 'Vous verrez bientot sa force,
messieurs.' A private cuirassier was wounded and dragged into
the square; his only cry was, 'Tuez donc, tuez, tuez moi,
soldats!' and as one of our men dropped dead close to him, he
seized his bayonet, and forced it into his own neck; but this not
despatching him, he raised up his cuirass, and plunging the
bayonet into his stomach, kept working it about till he ceased to
breathe.

"Though we constantly thrashed our steel-clad opponents, we found

more troublesome customers in the round shot and grape, which all
this time played on us with terrible effect, and fully avenged
the cuirassiers. Often as the volleys created openings in our
square would the cavalry dash on, but they were uniformly
unsuccessful. A regiment on our right seemed sadly disconcerted,
and at one moment was in considerable confusion. Halkett rode
out to them, and seizing their colour, waved it over his head,
and restored them to something like order, though not before his
horse was shot under him. At the height of their unsteadiness we
got the order to 'right face' to move to their assistance; some
of the men mistook it for 'right about face,' and faced
accordingly, when old Major M'Laine, 73d, called out, 'No, my
boys, its "right face;" you'll never hear the right about as long
as a French bayonet is in front of you!' In a few moments he was
mortally wounded. A regiment of light Dragoons, by their facings
either the 16th or 23d, came up to our left and charged the
cuirassiers. We cheered each other as they passed us; they did
all they could, but were obliged to retire after a few minutes at
the sabre. A body of Belgian cavalry advanced for the same
purpose, but on passing our square, they stopped short. Our
noble Halkett rode out to them and offered to charge at their
head; it was of no use; the Prince of Orange came up and exhorted
them to do their duty, but in vain. They hesitated till a few
shots whizzed through them, when they turned about, and galloped
like fury, or, rather, like fear. As they passed the right face
of our square the men, irritated by their rascally conduct,
unanimously took up their pieces and fired a volley into them,
and 'many a good fellow was destroyed so cowardly.'

"The enemy's cavalry were by this time nearly disposed of, and as
they had discovered the inutility of their charges, they
commenced annoying us by a spirited and well-directed carbine
fire. While we were employed in this manner it was impossible to
see farther than the columns on our right and left, but I imagine
most of the army were similarly situated: all the British and
Germans were doing their duty. About six o'clock I perceived
some artillery trotting up our hill, which I knew by their caps
to belong to the Imperial Guard. I had hardly mentioned this to
a brother officer when two guns unlimbered within seventy paces
of us, and, by their first discharge of grape, blew seven men
into the centre of the square. They immediately reloaded, and
kept up a constant and destructive fire. It was noble to see our
fellows fill up the gaps after every discharge. I was much
distressed at this moment; having ordered up three of my light
bobs, they had hardly taken their station when two of them fell
horribly lacerated. One of them looked up in my face and uttered
a sort of reproachful groan, and I involuntarily exclaimed, 'I
couldn't help it.' We would willingly have charged these guns,
but, had we deployed, the cavalry that flanked them would have
made an example of us.

"The 'vivida vis animi'--the glow which fires one upon entering
into action--had ceased; it was now to be seen which side had
most bottom, and would stand killing longest. The Duke visited
us frequently at this momentous period; he was coolness
personified. As he crossed the rear face of our square a shell
fell amongst our grenadiers, and he checked his horse to see its
effect. Some men were blown to pieces by the explosion, and he
merely stirred the rein of his charger, apparently as little
concerned at their fate as at his own danger. No leader ever
possessed so fully the confidence of his soldiery: wherever he
appeared, a murmur of 'Silence--stand to your front--here's the
Duke,' was heard through the column, and then all was steady as
on a parade. His aides-de-camp, Colonels Canning and Gordon,
fell near our square, and the former died within it. As he came
near us late in the evening, Halkett rode out to him and
represented our weak state, begging his Grace to afford us a
little support. 'It's impossible, Halkett,' said he. And our
general replied, 'If so, sir, you may depend on the brigade to a
man!'"

All accounts of the battle show that the Duke was ever present at
each spot where danger seemed the most pressing; inspiriting his
men by a few homely and good-humoured words; and restraining
their impatience to be led forward to attack in their turn.--
"Hard pounding this, gentlemen: we will try who can pound the
longest," was his remark to a battalion, on which the storm from
the French guns was pouring with peculiar fury. Riding up to one
of the squares, which had been dreadfully weakened, and against
which a fresh attack of French cavalry was coming, he called to
them: "Stand firm, my lads; what will they say of this in
England?" As he rode along another part of the line where the
men had for some time been falling fast beneath the enemy's
cannonade, without having any close fighting, a murmur reached
his ear of natural eagerness to advance and do something more
than stand still to be shot at. The Duke called to them: "Wait
a little longer, my lads, and you shall have your wish." The men
were instantly satisfied and steady. It was, indeed,
indispensable for the Duke to bide his time. The premature
movement of a single corps down from the British line of heights,
would have endangered the whole position, and have probably made
Waterloo a second Hastings.

But the Duke inspired all under him with his own spirit of
patient firmness. When other generals besides Halkett sent to
him, begging for reinforcements, or for leave to withdraw corps
which were reduced to skeletons, the answer was the same: "It is
impossible; you must hold your ground to the last man, and all
will be well." He gave a similar reply to some of his staff; who
asked instructions from him, so that, in the event of his
falling, his successor might follow out his plan. He answered,
"My plan is simply to stand my ground here to the last man." His
personal danger was indeed imminent throughout the day; and
though he escaped without injury to himself or horse, one only of
his numerous staff was equally fortunate.

["As far as the French accounts would lead us to infer, it

appears that the losses among Napoleon's staff were comparatively
trifling. On this subject perhaps the marked contrast afforded
by the following anecdotes, which have been related to me on
excellent authority, may tend to throw some light. At one period
of the battle, when the Duke was surrounded by several of his
staff, it was very evident that the group had become the object
of the fire of a French battery. The shot fell fast about them,
generally striking and turning up the ground on which they stood.
Their horses became restive and 'Copenhagen' himself so fidgetty,
that the Duke, getting impatient, and having reasons for
remaining on the spot, said to those about him, 'Gentlemen we are
rather too close together--better to divide a little.'
Subsequently, at another point of the line, an officer of
artillery came up to the Duke, and stated that he had a distinct
view of Napoleon, attended by his staff; that he had the guns of
his battery well pointed in that direction, and was prepared to
fire. His Grace instantly and emphatically exclaimed, 'No! no!
I'll not allow it. It is not the business of commanders to be
firing upon each other.'--Siborne, vol. ii. p. 263. How
different is this from Napoleon's conduct at the battle of
Dresden, when he personally directed the fire of the battery
which, as he thought, killed the Emperor Alexander, and actually
killed Moreau.]

Napoleon had stationed himself during the battle on a little

hillock near La Belle Alliance, in the centre of the French
position. Here he was seated, with a large table from the
neighbouring farm-house before him, on which maps and plans were
spread; and thence with his telescope he surveyed the various
points of the field. Soult watched his orders close at his left
hand, and his staff was grouped on horseback a few paces in the
rear. ["Souvenirs Militaires," par Col, Lemonnier-Delafosse, p.
407. "Ouvrard, who attended Napoleon as chief commissary of the
French army on that occasion, told me that Napoleon was suffering
from a complaint which made it very painful for him to ride."
--Lord Ellesmere, p. 47.] Here he remained till near the close
of the day, preserving the appearance at least of calmness,
except some expressions of irritation which escaped him, when
Ney's attack on the British left centre was defeated. But now
that the crisis of the battle was evidently approaching, he
mounted a white Persian charger, which he rode in action because
the troops easily recognised him by the horse colour. He had
still the means of effecting a retreat. His Old Guard had yet
taken no part in the action. Under cover of it, he might have
withdrawn his shattered forces and retired upon the French
frontier. But this would only have given the English and
Prussians the opportunity of completing their junction; and he
knew that other armies were fast coming up to aid them in a march
upon Paris, if he should succeed in avoiding an encounter with
them, and retreating upon the capital. A victory at Waterloo was
his only alternative from utter ruin, and he determined to employ
his Guard in one bold stroke more to make that victory his own.

Between seven and eight o'clock, the infantry of the Old Guard
was formed into two columns, on the declivity near La Belle
Alliance. Ney was placed at their head. Napoleon himself rode
forward to a spot by which his veterans were to pass; and, as
they approached, he raised his arm, and pointed to the position
of the Allies, as if to tell them that their path lay there.
They answered with loud cries of "Vive l'Empereur!" and
descended the hill from their own side, into that "valley of the
shadow of death" while the batteries thundered with redoubled
vigour over their heads upon the British line. The line of march
of the columns of the Guard was directed between Hougoumont and
La Haye Sainte, against the British right centre; and at the same
time the French under Donzelot, who had possession of La Haye
Sainte, commenced a fierce attack upon the British centre, a
little more to its left. This part of the battle has drawn less
attention than the celebrated attack of the Old Guard; but it
formed the most perilous crisis for the allied army; and if the
Young Guard had been there to support Donzelot, instead of being
engaged with the Prussians at Planchenoit, the consequences to
the Allies in that part of the field must have been most serious.
The French tirailleurs, who were posted in clouds in La Haye
Sainte, and the sheltered spots near it, picked off the
artillerymen of the English batteries near them: and taking
advantage of the disabled state of the English guns, the French
brought some field-pieces up to La Haye Sainte, and commenced
firing grape from them on the infantry of the Allies, at a
distance of not more than a hundred paces. The allied infantry
here consisted of some German brigades, who were formed in
squares, as it was believed that Donzelot had cavalry ready
behind La Haye Sainte to charge them with, if they left that
order of formation. In this state the Germans remained for some
time with heroic fortitude, though the grape-shot was tearing
gaps in their ranks and the side of one square was literally
blown away by one tremendous volley which the French gunners
poured into it. The Prince of Orange in vain endeavoured to lead
some Nassau troops to the aid of the brave Germans. The
Nassauers would not or could not face the French; and some
battalions of Brunswickers, whom the Duke of Wellington had
ordered up as a reinforcement, at first fell back, until the Duke
in person rallied them, and led them on. Having thus barred the
farther advance of Donzelot, the Duke galloped off to the right
to head his men who were exposed to the attack of the Imperial
Guard. He had saved one part of his centre from being routed;
but the French had gained ground and kept it; and the pressure on
the allied line in front of La Haye Sainte was fearfully severe,
until it was relieved by the decisive success which the British
in the right centre achieved over the columns of the Guard.

The British troops on the crest of that part of the position,

which the first column of Napoleon's Guards assailed, were
Maitland's brigade of British Guards, having Adams's brigade
(which had been brought forward during the action) on their
right. Maitland's men were lying down, in order to avoid as far
as possible the destructive effect of the French artillery, which
kept up an unremitting fire from the opposite heights, until the
first column of the Imperial Guard had advanced so far up the
slope towards the British position, that any further firing of
the French artillerymen would have endangered their own comrades.
Meanwhile the British guns were not idle; but shot and shell
ploughed fast through the ranks of the stately array of veterans
that still moved imposingly on. Several of the French superior
officers were at its head. Ney's horse was shot under him, but
he still led the way on foot, sword in hand. The front of the
massive column now was on the ridge of the hill. To their
surprise they saw no troops before them. All they could discern
through the smoke was a small band of mounted officers. One of
them was the Duke himself. The French advanced to about fifty
yards from where the British Guards were lying down when the
voice of one of the group of British officers was heard calling,
as if to the ground before him, "Up, Guards, and at them!" It
was the Duke who gave the order; and at the words, as if by
magic, up started before them a line of the British Guards four
deep, and in the most compact and perfect order. They poured an
instantaneous volley upon the head of the French column, by which
no less than three hundred of those chosen veterans are said to
have fallen. The French officers rushed forwards; and,
conspicuous in front of their men, attempted to deploy them into
a more extended line, so as to enable them to reply with effect
to the British fire. But Maitland's brigade kept showering in
volley after volley with deadly rapidity. The decimated column
grew disordered in its vain efforts to expand itself into a more
efficient formation. The right word was given at the right
moment to the British for the bayonet-charge, and the brigade
sprang forward with a loud cheer against their dismayed
antagonists. In an instant the compact mass of the French spread
out into a rabble, and they fled back down the hill, pursued by
Maitland's men, who, however, returned to their position in time
to take part in the repulse of the second column of the Imperial
Guard.

This column also advanced with great spirit and firmness under
the cannonade which was opened on it; and passing by the eastern
wall of Hougoumont, diverged slightly to the right as it moved up
the slope towards the British position, so as to approach nearly
the same spot where the first column had surmounted the height,
and been defeated. This enabled the British regiments of Adams's
brigade to form a line parallel to the left flank of the French
column; so that while the front of this column of French Guards
had to encounter the cannonade of the British batteries, and the
musketry of Maitlands Guards, its left flank was assailed with a
destructive fire by a four-deep body of British infantry,
extending all along it. In such a position all the bravery and
skill of the French veterans were vain. The second column, like
its predecessor, broke and fled, taking at first a lateral
direction along the front of the British line towards the rear of
La Haye Sainte, and so becoming blended with the divisions of
French infantry, which under Donzelot had been assailing the
Allies so formidably in that quarter. The sight of the Old Guard
broken and in flight checked the ardour which Donzelot's troops
had hitherto displayed. They, too, began to waver. Adams's
victorious brigade was pressing after the flying Guard, and now
cleared away the assailants of the allied centre. But the battle
was not yet won. Napoleon had still some battalions in reserve
near La Belle Alliance. He was rapidly rallying the remains of
the first column of his Guards, and he had collected into one
body the remnants of the various corps of cavalry, which had
suffered so severely in the earlier part of the day. The Duke
instantly formed the bold resolution of now himself becoming the
assailant, and leading his successful though enfeebled army
forward, while the disheartening effect of the repulse of the
Imperial Guard on the rest of the French army was still strong,
and before Napoleon and Ney could rally the beaten veterans
themselves for another and a fiercer charge. As the close
approach of the Prussians now completely protected the Duke's
left, he had drawn some reserves of horse from that quarter, and
he had a brigade of Hussars under Vivian fresh and ready at hand.
Without a moment's hesitation he launched these against the
cavalry near La Belie Alliance. The charge was as successful as
it was daring: and as there was now no hostile cavalry to check
the British infantry in a forward movement, the Duke gave the
long-wished-for command for a general advance of the army along
the whole line upon the foe. It was now past eight o'clock, and
for nearly nine deadly hours had the British and German regiments
stood unflinching under the fire of artillery, the charge of
cavalry, and every variety of assault, which the compact columns
or the scattered tirailleurs of the enemy's infantry could
inflict. As they joyously sprang forward against the discomfited
masses of the French, the setting sun broke through the clouds
which had obscured the sky during the greater part of the day,
and glittered on the bayonets of the Allies, while they poured
down into the valley and towards the heights that were held by
the foe. The Duke himself was among the foremost in the advance,
and personally directed the movements against each body of the
French that essayed resistance. He rode in front of Adams's
brigade, cheering it forward, and even galloped among the most
advanced of the British skirmishers, speaking joyously to the
men, and receiving their hearty shouts of congratulation. The
bullets of both friends and foes were whistling fast round him;
and one of the few survivors of his staff remonstrated with him
for thus exposing a life of such value. "Never mind," was the
Duke's answer;--"Never mind, let them fire away; the battle's
won, and my life is of no consequence now." And, indeed, almost
the whole of the French host was now in irreparable confusion.
The Prussian army was coming more and more rapidly forwards on
their right; and the Young Guard, which had held Planchenoit so
bravely, was at last compelled to give way. Some regiments of
the Old Guard in vain endeavoured to form in squares and stem the
current. They were swept away, and wrecked among the waves of
the flyers. Napoleon had placed himself in one of these squares:
Marshal Soult, Generals Bertrand, Drouot, Corbineau, De Flahaut,
and Gourgaud, were with him. The Emperor spoke of dying on the
field, but Soult seized his bridle and turned his charger round,
exclaiming, "Sire, are not the enemy already lucky enough?"
[Colonel Lemonnier-Delafosse, "Memoires," p. 388. The Colonel
states that he heard these details from General Gourgaud himself.
The English reader will be reminded of Charles I.'s retreat from
Naseby.] With the greatest difficulty, and only by the utmost
exertion of the devoted officers round him, Napoleon cleared the
throng of fugitives, and escaped from the scene of the battle and
the war, which he and France had lost past all recovery.
Meanwhile the Duke of Wellington still rode forward with the van
of his victorious troops, until he reined up on the elevated
ground near Rossomme. The daylight was now entirely gone; but
the young moon had risen, and the light which it cast, aided by
the glare from the burning houses and other buildings in the line
of the flying French and pursuing Prussians, enabled the Duke to
assure himself that his victory was complete. He then rode back
along the Charleroi road toward Waterloo: and near La Belle
Alliance he met Marshal Blucher. Warm were the congratulations
that were exchanged between the Allied Chiefs. It was arranged
that the Prussians should follow up the pursuit, and give the
French no chance of rallying. Accordingly the British army,
exhausted by its toils and sufferings during that dreadful day,
did not advance beyond the heights which the enemy had occupied.
But the Prussians drove the fugitives before them in merciless
chase throughout the night. Cannon, baggage, and all the
materiel of the army were abandoned by the French; and many
thousands of the infantry threw away their arms to facilitate
their escape. The ground was strewn for miles with the wrecks of
their host. There was no rear-guard; nor was even the semblance
of order attempted, an attempt at resistance was made at the
bridge and village of Genappe, the first narrow pass through
which the bulk of the French retired. The situation was
favourable; and a few resolute battalions, if ably commanded,
might have held their pursuers at bay there for some considerable
time. But despair and panic were now universal in the beaten
army. At the first sound of the Prussian drums and bugles,
Genappe was abandoned, and nothing thought of but headlong
flight. The Prussians, under General Gneisenau, still followed
and still slew; nor even when the Prussian infantry stopped in
sheer exhaustion, was the pursuit given up. Gneisenau still
pushed on with the cavalry; and by an ingenious stratagem, made
the French believe that his infantry were still close on them,
and scared them from every spot where they attempted to pause and
rest. He mounted one of his drummers on a horse which had been
taken from the captured carriage of Napoleon, and made him ride
along with the pursuing cavalry, and beat the drum whenever they
came on any large number of the French. The French thus fled,
and the Prussians pursued through Quatre Bras, and even over the
heights of Frasne; and when at length Gneisenau drew bridle, and
halted a little beyond Frasne with the scanty remnant of keen
hunters who had kept up the chace with him to the last, the
French were scattered through Gosselies, Marchiennes, and
Charleroi; and were striving to regain the left bank of the river
Sambre, which they had crossed in such pomp and pride not a
hundred hours before.

Part of the French left wing endeavoured to escape from the field
without blending with the main body of the fugitives who thronged
the Genappe causeway. A French officer, who was among those who
thus retreated across the country westward of the high-road, has
vividly described what he witnessed and what he suffered.
Colonel Lemonnier-Delafosse served in the campaign of 1815 in
General Foy's staff, and was consequently in that part of the
French army at Waterloo, which acted against Hougoumont and the
British right wing. When the column of the Imperial Guard made
their great charge at the end of the day, the troops of Foy's
division advanced in support of them, and Colonel Lemonnier-
Delafosse describes the confident hopes of victory and promotion
with which he marched to that attack, and the fearful carnage and
confusion of the assailants, amid which he was helplessly hurried
back by his flying comrades. He then narrates the closing scene,
[Col. Lemonnier-Delafosse, "Memoires," pp. 385-405. There are
omissions and abridgments in the translation which I have
given.]:

"Near one of the hedges of Hougoumont farm, without even a

drummer to beat the RAPPEL, we succeeded in rallying under the
enemy's fire 300 men: they were nearly all that remained of our
splendid division, Thither came together a band of generals.
There was Reille, whose horse had been shot under him; there were
D'Erlon, Bachelu, Foy, Jamin, and others. All were gloomy and
sorrowful, like vanquished men. Their words were,--'Here is all
that is left of my corps, of my division, of my brigade. I,
myself.' We had seen the fall of Duhesme, of Pelet-de-Morvan, of
Michel--generals who had found a glorious death. My General,
Foy, had his shoulder pierced through by a musket-ball: and out
of his whole staff two officers only were left to him, Cahour
Duhay and I. Fate had spared me in the midst of so many dangers,
though the first charger I rode had been shot and had fallen on
me.

"The enemy's horse were coming down on us, and our little group
was obliged to retreat. 'What had happened to our division of
the left wing had taken place all along the line. The movement
of the hostile cavalry, which inundated the whole plain, had
demoralised our soldiers, who seeing all regular retreat of the
army cut off, strove each man to effect one for himself. At each
instant the road became more encumbered. Infantry, cavalry, and
artillery, were pressing along pell-mell: jammed together like a
solid mass. Figure to yourself 40,000 men struggling and
thrusting themselves along a single causeway. We could not take
that way without destruction; so the generals who had collected
together near the Hougoumont hedge dispersed across the fields.
General Foy alone remained with the 300 men whom he had gleaned
from the field of battle, and marched at their head. Our anxiety
was to withdraw from the scene of action without being confounded
with the fugitives. Our general wished to retreat like a true
soldier. Seeing three lights in the southern horizon, like
beacons, General Foy asked me what I thought of the position of
each. I answered, 'The first to the left is Genappe, the second
is at Bois de Bossu, near the farm of Quatre Bras; the third is
at Gosselies.' 'Let us march on the second one, then,' replied
Foy, 'and let no obstacle stop us--take the head of the column,
and do not lose sight of the guiding light.' Such was his order,
and I strove to obey.

"After all the agitation and the incessant din of a long day of
battle, how imposing was the stillness of that night! We
proceeded on our sad and lonely march. We were a prey to the
most cruel reflections, we were humiliated, we were hopeless; but
not a word of complaint was heard. We walked silently as a troop
of mourners, and it might have been said that we were attending
the funeral of our country's glory. Suddenly the stillness was
broken by a challenge,--'QUI VIVE?' 'France!' 'Kellerman!'
'Foy!' 'Is it you, General? come nearer to us.' At that moment
we were passing over a little hillock, at the foot of which was a
hut, in which Kellerman and some of his officers had halted.
They came out to join as Foy said to me, 'Kellerman knows the
country: he has been along here before with his cavalry; we had
better follow him.' But we found that the direction which
Kellerman chose was towards the first light, towards Genappe.
That led to the causeway which our general rightly wished to
avoid I went to the left to reconnoitre, and was soon convinced
that such was the case. It was then that I was able to form a
full idea of the disorder of a routed army. What a hideous
spectacle! The mountain torrent, that uproots and whirls along
with it every momentary obstacle, is a feeble image of that heap
of men, of horses, of equipages, rushing one upon another;
gathering before the least obstacle which dams up their way for a
few seconds, only to form a mass which overthrows everything in
the path which it forces for itself. Woe to him whose footing
failed him in that deluge! He was crushed, trampled to death! I
returned and told my general what I had seen, and he instantly
abandoned Kellerman, and resumed his original line of march.

"Keeping straight across the country over fields and the rough
thickets, we at last arrived at the Bois de Bossu, where we
halted. My General said to me, 'Go to the farm of Quatre Bras
and announce that we are here. The Emperor or Soult must be
there. Ask for orders, and recollect that I am waiting here for
you. The lives of these men depend on your exactness.' To reach
the farm I was obliged to cross the high road: I was on
horseback, but nevertheless was borne away by the crowd that fled
along the road, and it was long are I could extricate myself and
reach the farmhouse. General Lobau was there with his staff,
resting in fancied security. They thought that their troops had
halted there; but, though a halt had been attempted, the men had
soon fled forwards, like their comrades of the rest of the army.
The shots of the approaching Prussians were now heard; and I
believe that General Lobau was taken prisoner in that farmhouse.
I left him to rejoin my general, which I did with difficulty. I
found him alone. His men, as they came near the current of
flight, were infected with the general panic, and fled also.

"What was to be done? Follow that crowd of runaways? General

Foy would not hear of it. There were five of us still with him,
all officers. He had been wounded at about five in the
afternoon, and the wound had not been dressed. He suffered
severely; but his moral courage was unbroken. 'Let us keep,' he
said, 'a line parallel to the high road, and work our way hence
as we best can.' A foot-track was before us, and we followed it.

"The moon shone out brightly, and revealed the full wretchedness
of the TABLEAU which met our eyes. A brigadier and four cavalry
soldiers, whom we met with, formed our escort. We marched on;
and, as the noise grew more distant, I thought that we were
losing the parallel of the highway. Finding that we had the moon
more and more on the left, I felt sure of this, and mentioned it
to the General. Absorbed in thought, he made me no reply. We
came in front of a windmill, and endeavoured to procure some
information; but we could not gain an entrance, or make any one
answer, and we continued our nocturnal march. At last we entered
a village, but found every door closed against us, and were
obliged to use threats in order to gain admission into a single
house. The poor woman to whom it belonged, more dead than alive,
received us as if we had been enemies. Before asking where we
were, 'Food, give as some food!' was our cry. Bread and butter
and beer were brought, and soon disappeared before men who had
fasted for twenty-four hours. A little revived, we ask, 'Where
are we? what is the name of this village?'--'Vieville.'

"On looking at the map, I saw that in coming to that village we

had leaned too much to the right, and that we were in the
direction of Mons. In order to reach the Sambre at the bridge of
Marchiennes, we had four leagues to traverse; and there was
scarcely time to march the distance before daybreak. I made a
villager act as our guide, and bound him by his arm to my
stirrup. He led us through Roux to Marchiennes. The poor fellow
ran alongside of my horse the whole way. It was cruel, but
necessary to compel him, for we had not an instant to spare. At
six in the morning we entered Marchiennes.

"Marshal Ney was there. Our general went to see him, and to ask
what orders he had to give. Ney was asleep; and, rather than rob
him of the first repose he had had for four days, our General
returned to us without seeing him. And, indeed, what orders
could Marshal Ney have given? The whole army was crossing the
Sambre, each man where and now he chose; some at Charleroi, some
at Marchiennes. We were about to do the same thing. When once
beyond the Sambre we might safely halt; and both men and horses
were in extreme need of rest. We passed through Thuin; and
finding a little copse near the road, we gladly sought its
shelter. While our horses grazed, we lay down and slept. How
sweet was that sleep after the fatigues of the long day of
battle, and after the night of retreat more painful still! We
rested in the little copse till noon, and sate there watching the
wrecks of our army defile along the road before us. It was a
soul-harrowing sight! Yet the different arms of the service had
resumed a certain degree of order amid their disorder; and our
General, feeling his strength revive, resolved to follow a strong
column of cavalry which was taking the direction of Beaumont,
about four leagues off. We drew near Beaumont, when suddenly a
regiment of horse was seen debouching from a wood on our left.
The column that we followed shouted out, 'The Prussians! the
Prussians!' and galloped off in utter disorder. The troops that
thus alarmed them were not a tenth part of their number, and were
in reality our own 8th Hussars, who wore green uniforms. But the
panic had been brought even thus far from the battle-field, and
the disorganized column galloped into Beaumont, which was already
crowded with our infantry. We were obliged to follow that
DEBACLE. On entering Beaumont we chose a house of superior
appearance, and demanded of the mistress of it refreshments for
the General. 'Alas!' said the lady, 'this is the tenth General
who has been to this house since this morning. I have nothing
left. Search, if you please, and see.' Though unable to find
food for the General, I persuaded him to take his coat off and
let me examine his wound. The bullet had gone through the twists
of the left epaulette, and penetrating the skin, had run round
the shoulder without injuring the bone. The lady of the house
made some lint for me; and without any great degree of surgical
skill I succeeded in dressing the wound.

"Being still anxious to procure some food for the General. and
ourselves, if it were but a loaf of ammunition bread, I left the
house and rode out into the town. I saw pillage going on in
every direction: open caissons, stripped and half-broken,
blocked up the streets. The pavement was covered with plundered
and torn baggage. Pillagers and runaways, such were all the
comrades I met with. Disgusted at them, I strove, sword in hand,
to stop one of the plunderers; but, more active than I, he gave
me a bayonet stab in my left arm, in which I fortunately caught
his thrust, which had been aimed full at my body. He disappeared
among the crowd, through which I could not force my horse. My
spirit of discipline had made me forget that in such
circumstances the soldier is a mere wild beast. But to be
wounded by a fellow-countryman after having passed unharmed
through all the perils of Quatre Bras and Waterloo!--this did
seem hard, indeed. I was trying to return to General Foy, when
another horde of flyers burst into Beaumont, swept me into the
current of their flight, and hurried me out of the town with
them. Until I received my wound I had preserved my moral courage
in full force; but now, worn out with fatigue, covered with
blood, and suffering severe pain from the wound, I own that I
gave way to the general demoralisation, and let myself be inertly
borne along with the rushing mass. At last I reached Landrecies,
though I know not how or when. But I found there our Colonel
Hurday, who had been left behind there in consequence of an
accidental injury from a carriage. He took me with him to Paris,
where I retired amid my family, and got cured of my wound,
knowing nothing of the rest of political and military events that
were taking place."

No returns ever were made of the amount of the French loss in the
battle of Waterloo; but it must have been immense, and may be
partially judged of by the amount of killed and wounded in the
armies of the conquerors. On this subject both the Prussian and
British official evidence is unquestionably full and authentic.
The figures are terribly emphatic.

Of the army that fought under the Duke of Wellington nearly

15,000 men were killed and wounded on this single day of battle.
Seven thousand Prussians also fell at Waterloo. At such a
fearful price was the deliverance of Europe purchased.

By none was the severity of that loss more keenly felt than by
our great deliverer himself. As may be seen in Major Macready's
narrative, the Duke, while the battle was raging, betrayed no
sign of emotion at the most ghastly casualties; but, when all was
over, the sight of the carnage with which the field was covered,
and still more, the sickening spectacle of the agonies of the
wounded men who lay moaning in their misery by thousands and tens
of thousands, weighed heavily on the spirit of the victor, as he
rode back across the scene of strife. On reaching his head-
quarters in the village of Waterloo, the Duke inquired anxiously
after the numerous friends who had been round him in the morning,
and to whom he was warmly attached. Many he was told were dead;
others were lying alive, but mangled and suffering, in the houses
round him. It is in our hero's own words alone that his feelings
can be adequately told. In a letter written by him almost
immediately after his return from the field, he thus expressed
himself:--"My heart is broken by the terrible loss I have
sustained in my old friends and companions, and my poor soldiers.
Believe me, nothing except a battle lost, can be half so
melancholy as a battle won; the bravery of my troops has hitherto
saved me from the greater evil; but to win such a battle as this
of Waterloo, at the expense of so many gallant friends, could
only be termed a heavy misfortune but for the result to the
public."

It is not often that a successful General in modern warfare is

called on, like the victorious commander of the ancient Greek
armies, to award a prize of superior valour to one of his
soldiers. Such was to some extent the case with respect to the
battle of Waterloo. In the August of 1818, an English clergyman
offered to confer a small annuity on some Waterloo soldier, to be
named by the Duke. [Siborne, vol. i. p. 391.] The Duke
requested Sir John Byng to choose a man from the 2d Brigade of
Guards, which had so highly distinguished itself in the defence
of Hougoumont. There were many gallant candidates, but the
election fell on Sergeant James Graham, of the light company of
the Coldstreams. This brave man had signalised himself,
throughout the day, in the defence of that important post, and
especially in the critical struggle that took place at the period
when the French, who had gained the wood, the orchard, and
detached garden, succeeded in bursting open a gate of the
courtyard of the chateau itself, and rushed in in large masses,
confident of carrying all before them. A hand-to-hand fight, of
the most desperate character, was kept up between them and the
Guards for a few minutes; but at last the British bayonets
prevailed. Nearly all the Frenchmen who had forced their way in
were killed on the spot; and, as the few survivors ran back, five
of the Guards, Colonel Macdonnell, Captain Wyndham, Ensign Gooch,
Ensign Hervey, and Sergeant Graham, by sheer strength, closed the
gate again, in spite of the efforts of the French from without,
and effectually barricaded it against further assaults. Over and
through the loopholed wall of the courtyard, the English garrison
now kept up a deadly fire of musketry, which was fiercely
answered by the French, who swarmed round the curtilage like
ravening wolves. Shells, too, from their batteries, were falling
fast into the besieged place, one of which set part of the
mansion and some of the out-buildings on fire. Graham, who was
at this time standing near Colonel Macdonnell at the wall, and
who had shown the most perfect steadiness and courage, now asked
permission of his commanding officer to retire for a moment.
Macdonnell replied, "By all means, Graham; but I wonder you
should ask leave now." Graham answered, "I would not, sir, only
my brother is wounded, and he is in that out-building there,
which has just caught fire." Laying down his musket, Graham ran
to the blazing spot, lifted up his brother, and laid him in a
ditch. Then he was back at his post, and was plying his musket
against the French again, before his absence was noticed, except
by his colonel.

Many anecdotes of individual prowess have been preserved: but of

all the brave men who were in the British army on that eventful
day, none deserve more honour for courage and indomitable
resolution than Sir Thomas Picton, who, as has been mentioned,
fell in repulsing the great attack of the French upon the British
left centre. It was not until the dead body was examined after
the battle, that the full heroism of Picton was discerned. He
had been wounded on the 16th, at Quatre Bras, by a musket-ball,
which had broken two of his ribs, and caused also severe internal
injuries; but he had concealed the circumstance, evidently in
expectation that another and greater battle would be fought in a
short time, and desirous to avoid being solicited to absent
himself from the field. His body was blackened and swollen by
the wound, which must have caused severe and incessant pain; and
it was marvellous how his spirit had borne him up, and enabled
him to take part in the fatigues and duties of the field. The
bullet which, on the 18th, killed the renowned loader of "the
fighting Division" of the Peninsula, entered the head near the
left temple, and passed through the brain; so that Picton's death
must have been instantaneous.

One of the most interesting narratives of personal adventure at

Waterloo, is that of Colonel Frederick Ponsonby, of the 12th
Light Dragoons, who was severely wounded when Vandeleur's
brigade, to which he belonged, attacked the French lancers, in
order to bring off the Union Brigade, which was retiring from its
memorable charge. [See p. 361, SUPRA.] The 12th, like those
whom they rescued, advanced much further against the French
position than prudence warranted. Ponsonby, with many others,
was speared by a reserve of Polish lancers, and left for dead on
the field. It is well to refer to the description of what he
suffered (as he afterwards gave it, when almost miraculously
recovered from his numerous wounds), because his fate, or worse,
was the fate of thousands more; and because the narrative of the
pangs of an individual, with whom we can identify ourselves,
always comes more home to us than a general description of the
miseries of whole masses. His tale may make us remember what are
the horrors of war as well as its glories. It is to be
remembered that the operations which he refers to, took place
about three o'clock in the day, and that the fighting went on for
at least five hours more. After describing how he and his men
charged through the French whom they first encountered, and went
against other enemies, he states:--

"We had no sooner passed them than we were ourselves attacked

before we could form, by about 300 Polish lancers, who had
hastened to their relief; the French artillery pouring in among
us a heavy fire of grape, though for one of our men they killed
three of their own.
"In the MELEE I was almost instantly disabled in both arms,
losing first my sword, and then my reins, and followed by a few
men, who were presently cut down, no quarter being allowed, asked
or given, I was carried along by my horse, till, receiving a blow
from a sabre, I fell senseless on my face to the ground.

"Recovering, I raised myself a little to look round, being at

that time, I believe, in a condition to get up and run away; when
a lancer passing by, cried out, 'Tu n'est pas mort, coquin!' and
struck his lance through my back. My head dropped, the blood
gushed into my mouth, a difficulty of breathing came on, and I
thought all was over.

"Not long afterwards (it was impossible to measure time, but I

must have fallen in less than ten minutes after the onset), a
tirailleur stopped to plunder me, threatening my life. I
directed him to a small side-pocket, in which he found three
dollars, all I had; but he continued to threaten, and I said he
might search me: this he did immediately, unloosing my stock and
tearing open my waistcoat, and leaving me in a very uneasy
posture.

"But he was no sooner gone, than an officer bringing up some

troops, to which probably the tirailleur belonged and happening
to halt where I lay, stooped down and addressed me, saying, he
feared I was badly wounded; I said that I was, and expressed a
wish to be removed to the rear. He said it was against their
orders to remove even their own men; but that if they gained the
day (and he understood that the Duke of Wellington was killed,
and that some of our battalions had surrendered), every attention
in his power would be shown me. I complained of thirst, and he
held his brandy-bottle to my lips, directing one of the soldiers
to lay me straight on my side, and place a knapsack under my
head. He then passed on into action--soon, perhaps, to want,
though not receive, the same assistance; and I shall never know
to whose generosity I was indebted, as I believe, for my life.
Of what rank he was, I cannot say: he wore a great coat. By-
and-by another tirailleur came up, a fine young man, full of
ardour. He knelt down and fired over me, loading and firing many
times, and conversing with me all the while." The Frenchman,
with strange coolness, informed Ponsonby of how he was shooting,
and what he thought of the progress of the battle. "At last he
ran off, exclaiming, 'You will probably not be sorry to hear that
we are going to retreat. Good day, my friend.' It was dusk,"
Ponsonby adds, "when two squadrons of Prussian cavalry, each of
them two deep, came across the valley, and passed over me in full
trot, lifting me from the ground, and tumbling me about cruelly.
The clatter of of their approach and the apprehensions they
excited, may be imagined; a gun taking that direction must have
destroyed me.

"The battle was now at an end, or removed to a distance. The

shouts, the imprecations, the outcries of 'Vive l'Empereur!' the
discharge of musketry and cannon, were over; and the groans of
the wounded all around me, became every moment more and more
audible. I thought the night would never end.
"Much about this time I found a soldier of the Royals lying
across my legs: he had probably crawled thither in his agony;
and his weight, his convulsive motions, and the air issuing
through a wound in his side, distressed me greatly; the last
circumstance most of all, as I had a wound of the same nature
myself. "It was not a dark night, and the Prussians were
wandering about to plunder; the scene in Ferdinand Count Fathom
came into my mind, though no women appeared. Several stragglers
looked at me, as they passed by, one after another, and at last
one of them stopped to examine me. I told him as well as I
could, for I spoke German very imperfectly, that I was a British
officer, and had been plundered already; he did not desist,
however, and pulled me about roughly.

"An hour before midnight I saw a man in an English uniform

walking towards me. He was, I suspect, on the same errand, and
he came and looked in my face. I spoke instantly, telling him
who I was, and assuring him of a reward if he would remain by me.
He said he belonged to the 40th, and had missed his regiment; he
released me from the dying soldier, and being unarmed, took up a
sword from the ground, and stood over me, pacing backwards and
forwards.

"Day broke; and at six o'clock in the morning some English were
seen at a distance, and he ran to them. A messenger being sent
off to Hervey, a cart came for me, and I was placed in it, and
carried to the village of Waterloo, a mile and a half off, and
laid in the bed from which as I understood afterwards, Gordon had
been just carried out. I had received seven wounds; a surgeon
slept in my room, and I was saved by excessive bleeding."

Major Macready, in the journal already cited, [See SUPRA.

p. 368.] justly praises the deep devotion to their Emperor which,
marked the French at Waterloo. Never, indeed, had the national
bravery of the French people been more nobly shown. One soldier
in the French ranks was seen, when his arm was shattered by a
cannon-ball, to wrench it off with the other; and throwing it up
in the air, he exclaimed to his comrades, "Vive l'Empereur
jusqu'a la mort!" Colonel Lemonnier-Delafosse mentions in his
Memoirs, [Page 388.] that at the beginning of the action, a
French soldier who had had both legs carried off by a cannon-
ball, was borne past the front of Foy's division, and called out
to them, "Ca n'est rien, camarades; Vive l'Empereur! Gloire a
la France!" The same officer, at the end of the battle, when all
hope was lost, tells us that he saw a French grenadier, blackened
with powder, and with his clothes torn and stained, leaning on
his musket, and immoveable as a statue. The colonel called to
him to join his comrades and retreat; but the grenadier showed
him his musket and his hands; and said, "These hands have with
this musket used to-day more than twenty packets of cartridges:
it was more than my share: I supplied myself with ammunition
from the dead. Leave me to die here on the field of battle. It
is not courage that fails me, but strength." Then, as Colonel
Delafosse left him, the soldier stretched himself on the ground
to meet his fate, exclaiming, "Tout est perdu! pauvre France!"
The gallantry of the French officers at least equalled that of
their men. Ney, in particular, set the example of the most
daring courage. Here, as in every French army in which he ever
served or commanded, he was "le brave des braves." Throughout
the day he was in the front of the battle; and was one of the
very last Frenchmen who quitted the field. His horse was killed
under him in the last attack made on the English position; but he
was seen on foot, his clothes torn with bullets, his face
smirched with powder, striving, sword in hand, first to urge his
men forward, and at last to check their flight.

There was another brave general of the French army, whose valour
and good conduct on that day of disaster to his nation should
never be unnoticed when the story of Waterloo is recounted. This
was General Polet, who, about seven in the evening, led the first
battalion of the 2d regiment of the Chasseurs of the Guard to the
defence of Planchenoit; and on whom Napoleon personally urged the
deep importance of maintaining possession of that village. Pelet
and his men took their post in the central part of the village,
and occupied the church and churchyard in great strength. There
they repelled every assault of the Prussians, who in rapidly
increasing numbers rushed forward with infuriated pertinacity.
They held their post till the utter rout of the main army of
their comrades was apparent, and the victorious Allies were
thronging around Planchenoit. When Pelet and his brave chasseurs
quitted the churchyard, and retired with steady march, though
they suffered fearfully from the moment they left their shelter,
and Prussian cavalry as well as infantry dashed fiercely after
them. Pelet kept together a little knot of 250 veterans, and had
the eagle covered over, and borne along in the midst of them. At
one time the inequality of the ground caused his ranks to open a
little; and in an instant the Prussian horseman were on them, and
striving to capture the eagle. Captain Siborne relates the
conduct of Pelet with the admiration worthy of one brave soldier
for another:--

"Pelet, taking advantage of a spot of ground which afforded them

some degree of cover against the fire of grape by which they were
constantly assailed, halted the standard-bearer, and called out,
"A moi chasseurs! sauvons l'aigle ou mourons autour d'elle!"
The chasseurs immediately pressed around him, forming what is
usually termed the rallying square, and, lowering their bayonets,
succeeded in repulsing the charge of cavalry. Some guns were
then brought to bear upon them, and subsequently a brisk fire of
musketry; but notwithstanding the awful sacrifice which was thus
offered up in defence of their precious charge, they succeeded in
reaching the main line of retreat, favoured by the universal
confusion, as also by the general obscurity which now prevailed;
and thus saved alike the eagle and the honour of the regiment."

French writers do injustice to their own army and general, when

they revive malignant calumnies against Wellington, and speak of
his having blundered into victory. No blunderer could have
successfully encountered such troops as those of Napoleon, and
under such a leader. It is superfluous to cite against these
cavils the testimony which other continental critics have borne
to the high military genius of our illustrious chief. I refer to
one only, which is of peculiar value, on account of the quarter
whence it comes. It is that of the great German writer Niebuhr,
whose accurate acquaintance with every important scene of modern
as well as ancient history was unparalleled: and who was no mere
pedant, but a man practically versed in active life, and had been
personally acquainted with most of the leading men in the great
events of the early part of this century. Niebuhr, in the
passage which I allude to, [Roman History, vol. v. p. 17.] after
referring to the military "blunders" of Mithridates, Frederick
the Great, Napoleon, Pyrrhus, and Hannibal, uses these remarkable
words, "The Duke of Wellington is, I believe, the only general in
whose conduct of war we cannot discover any important mistake."
Not that it is to be supposed that the Duke's merits were simply
of a negative order, or that he was merely a cautious, phlegmatic
general fit only for defensive warfare, as some recent French
historians have described him. On the contrary, he was bold even
to audacity when boldness was required. "The intrepid advance
and fight at Assaye, the crossing of the Douro, and the movement
on Talavera in 1809, the advance to Madrid and Burgos in 1812,
the actions before Bayonne in 1813, and the desperate stand made
at Waterloo itself, when more tamely-prudent generals would have
retreated beyond Brussels, place this beyond a doubt." [See the
admirable parallel of Wellington and Marlborough at the end of
Sir Archibald Alison's "Life of the Duke of Marlborough." Sir
Archibald justly considers Wellington the more daring general of
the two.]

The overthrow of the French military power at Waterloo was so

complete, that the subsequent events of the brief campaign have
little interest. Lamartine truly says: "This defeat left
nothing undecided in future events, for victory had given
judgment. The war began and ended in a single battle." Napoleon
himself recognised instantly and fully the deadly nature of the
blow which had been dealt to his empire. In his flight from the
battle-field he first halted at Charleroi, but the approach of
the pursuing Prussians drove him thence before he had rested
there an hour. With difficulty getting clear of the wrecks of
his own army, he reached Philippeville, where he remained a few
hours, and sent orders to the French generals in the various
extremities of France to converge with their troops upon Paris.
He ordered Soult to collect the fugitives of his own force, and
lead them to Laon. He then hurried forward to Paris, and reached
his capital before the news of his own defeat. But the stern
truth soon transpired. At the demand of the Chambers of Peers
and Representatives, he abandoned the throne by a second and
final abdication on the 22d of June. On the 29th of June he left
the neighbourhood of Paris, and proceeded to Rochefort in the
hope of escaping to America; but the coast was strictly watched,
and on the 15th of July the ex-emperor surrendered himself on
board of the English man-of-war the Bellerophon.

Meanwhile the allied armies had advanced steadily upon Paris,

driving before them Grouchy's corps, and the scanty force which
Soult had succeeded in rallying at Laon. Cambray, Peronne, and
other fortresses were speedily captured; and by the 29th of June
the invaders were taking their positions in front of Paris. The
Provisional Government, which acted in the French capital after
the Emperor's abdication, opened negotiations with the allied
chiefs. Blucher, in his quenchless hatred of the French, was
eager to reject all proposals for a suspension of hostilities,
and to assault and storm the city. But the sager and calmer
spirit of Wellington prevailed over his colleague; the entreated
armistice was granted; and on the 3d of July the capitulation of
Paris terminated the War of the Battle of Waterloo.

In closing our observations on this the last of the Decisive

Battles of the World, it is pleasing to contrast the year which
it signalized with the year that is now [Written in June 1851.]
passing over our heads. We have not (and long may we be without)
the stern excitement of martial strife, and we see no captive
standards of our European neighbours brought in triumph to our
shrines. But we behold an infinitely prouder spectacle. We see
the banners of every civilized nation waving over the arena of
our competition with each other, in the arts that minister to our
race's support and happiness, and not to its suffering and
destruction.

"Peace hath her victories

No less renowned than War;"

and no battle-field ever witnessed a victory more noble than that

which England, under her Sovereign Lady and her Royal Prince, is
now teaching the peoples of the earth to achieve over selfish
prejudices and international feuds, in the great cause of the
general promotion of the industry and welfare of mankind.

End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Fifteen Decisive Battles of

The World From Marathon to Waterloo, by Sir Edward Creasy, M.A.